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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

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635 
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DROSS 



A Strange Drama of 
American Life 



IN FOUR ACTS 



By 

EDMUND 
WHEATLEY 

Author of 

'Two Daughters of 

the Confederacy," 

Etc. 



1907 






Copyright 1907 
By Edmund A. Wheatley 



First-jnd Strictly Limited Edition 
For perusal only 






TMPS2-007550 



N. B.— This copy of the play "DROSS" is the property of Edmund A. Wheatley, 

Chattanooga, Tenn., to whom it must be returned. 

See last 'page. 



CHARACTERS 



WILL YORK, 
JAMES, 
JESSIE COLE, 
BESSIE LAKE, 
ISABELLE STAPLETON, 
WARD, 
ROGERS, 
FERGUSON, 
BLADWORTH, 
GU STAVE, 
MRS. OILBY, 
MRS. STOCKER, 
MRS. RUNYAN, 
MISS SINGLETON, 
COUNT GEORG ALADAR 
Of 
MRS. WYLIE, 
FANNIE, 
JOHN, 
SIMPSON, 



His Brother 

Her Friend 

An Actress 

A Friend of Will's 

A Capitalist and Promoter 

A Private Banker and Broker 

A Wall Street Broker 

A Child 

From Fort Worth, Texas 

From Chicago, Illinois 

From Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 

From New York 

HAVELKA, 

the Royal Hungarian Horse Guards 

Housekeeper 

A Maid 

A Man Servant 

An English Valet 



DROSS 



ACT I. 



Scene. Sitting room in the York home, in Muncie, Ind. Tables, 
books, bric-a-brac, statuary; a statue of St. Patrick on top of book 
case. Smoking materials lying around. The room should show that 
it is the living room' of tvjo young men and their aged mother. A 
cJiess table zvith men on it. Fannie discovered tidying up room. 

Enter Mrs. Wylie. 

Mrs. W. Oh ! Good morning, Fannie ! 

Fan. Good morning, Mrs. Wylie, ma'am. 

Mrs. W. That's right. Give this room a thorough dusting. 
There's that statoo of the blessed St. Patrick, now, that yoimg 
Mr. James York brought home from his trip to the Ould Counthry, 
and stuck up here for an ornament, amongst thim naken heathen 
gods and god-desses. Think shame on him ! Ye want to be after 
keeping him clane, or he'll be setting the fairies after you. 

Fan. Oh ! 

Mrs. W. Yis. And Mrs. York will be after you wid a sharp 
stick, begorra ! For if there's anything she do hate, 'tis not havin' 
her house clane and nate. The last girl lost her place — the place 
you've got — for nothin' mor'n a little speck o' dust on the pianny. 
Not that Mrs. York maybe would have noticed it herself, but that 
young divil of a bye of mine, Mr. Will York, went and wrote 
"rats" with his finger in the dust, and of course, that called her 
attintion to it, as the sayin' is. 

Fan. Boy of yours, ma'am? 

Mrs. W. Yis. I calls him bye of mine. Ye see, he's the eldest 
of the two brothers, Will and Jim, and I was first taken on as his 
nurse whin he was a kid, so I've called him me bye ever since. A 
foine young mahn he is now% begorry. But a terrible toime he led 
me, when he was younger. Sure, it's knows his own mind he does, 
if no one ilse does, and git it he will, or the divil's to pay entirely. 

Fan. Oh ! That's the way with the men, Mrs. Wylie. 



6 DROSS 

Mrs. W. Go long! What do you know about the min? 

Fan. (Bridling). Indeed, ma'am 

Mrs. W. Think shame of yourself! But min or no min, you 
mind what I say, and don't you let Mr. Will come monkeying around 
you, for he's just that kind of a young omadhoun, he fears neither 
God nor man, and anything wid a petticoat he considers fair game. 
Och, he do be the very divil of a felly among the women. So you'd 
just better steer clear of him, or, dust or no dust, off you goes! 

Fan. Oh ! Sure, ma'am ! I won't have a word to say to him ! 
I swear be the blessed St. Patrick I 

Mrs. W. 'Twill be the better for you, if ye don't. But here 
comes M'r. James. 

Enter James. 

Good morning, sor ! 

James. Good morning, Wylie. Any mail? 

Mrs. W. Yis, sor! Wan letter. {Hands letter.) 

James {Taking). From Mr. Rogers. Oh! If I only had his 
money, Wylie 

Mrs. W. Yis, sor? 

James. I'd endow ten hospitals 

Mrs. W. Och ! Bedad ! 

James. And six orphan asylums 

Mrs. W. Oh! Mr. York, sor! 

James. And build a cathedral to the {points) blessed St. Pat- 
rick! {Laughs.) 

Mrs. W. Oh ! sure, Mr. York, you're the ginerous gintleman, that 
ye are, sor! {Chasps hands.) 

James. But — I haven't got his money. 

Mrs. W. The more's the pity, sor! 

James. So, I guess I'll just read what he has to say to me. 
{Opens letter and reads.) Dear James; Please call and see me 
tomorrow (that's today) at ten a. m. I am prepared to close up 
that deal ivith you if you are ready. — John Rogers. Well, I'll go, 
and I guess I'll go in with him. Everything he touches turns to 
gold. I hope this will. Where's Will? 

Mrs. W. Faith, I expect he's abed. He never do be up, at this 
time in the morning. Sure, it's only noine o'clock. 

James. Lazy brute. Go and call him, Wylie. There's a good 
soul. Tell him I have to meet a man at ten o'clock, and that I want 
to see him before I go. 

Mrs. IV. I will, sir. (Exit.) 

James. And I suppose I may as well take a book and read. I 



DROSS 7 

bet a dollar he won't be down for an hour. (To Fannie.) Tell 
Mr. York he'll find me in the librar}', please. (Exit.) 

Fan. Yes, sir! (Clasps hand over mouth.) Oh! and how shall 
I tell him ! Me that swore I wouldn't have a word to say to him ! 
(Continues dusting.) 

Enter Will, Fannie dusts industrioiisly. 

Will. Good morning, Annie ! Where's brother James ? (Fannie 
pretends not to hear. He goes up and pulls her round by the sleeve.) 
Hello ! It's not Annie. A new girl ! (She tries to pull azvay. He 
pulls her back.) Do you know Mr. James? (She nods her head.) 
Where is he? (She points to library door.) What's the matter with 
the girl? Deaf and dumb? Where's your tongue? (She shakes 
head. He takes her by the chin, opens her mouth, looks in.) Got 
a tongue, all right ! (Kisses her on the open mouth, and exit into 
library.) 

Fan. (Remains standing zvith mouth wide open. Then brings it 
shut zvith a snap). Well, of all the young men I iver knew, he do 
beat 'em all to a — frizzle. Now, howly St. Patrick ! What can ye 
do wid a man like that? But, however, yer Howliness, ye'll take 
notice / didn't say a zvord to him, but if he iver does that again 
(shaking her duster at St. Patrick) and you don't shtop him, I'll, 
I'll — keep me mouth shut. That's what I'll do. (Exit.) 
Will and James heard talking loudly in library. 

Enter Will noisily follozved by James. 

PVill. No! No! No! Damn it! I tell you No! All your life 
you have tried to run counter to my wishes, but I insist on having 
my way in this stock proposition. 

James. Darn few times in your life you didn't get your own 
way, in spite of right or decency, but this time I tell you. Will, I 
am determined to sell our interest in the gas works, no matter 
what you say. 

Will. Yes, and to my worst enemy, who will throw me out of my 
job as soon as he gets control, just for spite. 

James. That's your affair. I expect you can get another. 

Will. You know perfectly well I can't — not as good as this ; and 
not in this town. 

James. Well, you have your own wildness to thank for it, that 
you have had to cling on to your job, through the financial interest 
in the gas company, that dad left to mother during her lifetime, in 
trust with me. Yes, and the fact that he left me, the younger 



8 DROSS 

brother, trustee during her life, instead of you, even though your 
interest (if mother should die before us) is equal to mine, shows 
very plainly that he had more faith in my judgment than yours. 
And now I have finally made up my mind. The gas works are a 
bad investment. Several of my friends have advised me to sell 
while I have a chance. I shall be guided by them. 

Will. They advised you to sell some years back — yet you didn't, 
and the stock isn't any lower now. 

James. Things are different now. 

Will. Yes, I know what things are different. I know what you 
are doing it for. You want to drive me out of town. 

James. Oh ! Of course, I knew you'd shoot your mouth off about 
it and blame me. 

Will. Yes, you want to get me out of the way, so you can make 
up to Jess. 

James. That's rot ! 

Will. You can't cut me out. so you want to drive me out and ruin 
me ! 

James. Well, suppose it's true? What then? I don't say it is 
true. But if it is? What are you going to do about it? 

Wild. [Impressively, stepping closer.'] You won't succeed. I'll 
beat you at your own game. 

James. Meaning ? 

Will. I'll get the girl. I'll ruin you. I'll be rich, and you 

James. Yes ? 

Will. You'll beg me for money to live on, some day — and won't 
get it. 

James. [Sneeringly.] Tut! Tut! How dramatic! Why don't 
you go on the stage? 

Enter Fannie. 

Fan. Miss Cole ! [She looks knowingly at Will, zvho pays no 
attention to her. She tosses head and exit.] 

Enter Jessie Cole. 

Jess. Oh ! Good morning, boys ! 

Will and James. Good morning, Jess ! 

Jess. Well, of all the cross-looking bears ! What's the matter 
with you two? Been fighting? 

James. Oh ! Only a little brotherly quarrel. 

Jess. Well !^ Brace up and get over it. I've come to have a 
good time. Going to stay today, and maybe tomorrow, too. Mother's 



DROSS 9 

gone down to Cincinnati, and told me to run over and stop with 
Mrs. York. So you will have to look pleased and do something 
to entertain me. 
James. Well, that's jolly! 

Will. Fine! Well, what shall we do this morning? Go for a 
drive? 

Jess. Just the thing, isn't it, Jim? It's a lovely day for a drive. 

James. Yes, but I've an appointment to see a man at ten o'clock. 

Jess. Oh ! tomorrow will do, won't it ? Go and telephone him ! 
Tell him you have an unexpected guest. Tell him anything you like. 
But put it ofif. It's too lovely a morning to spoil with business. 
[James hesitates.] Go ahead! Go ahead, Jimmy! I'm dying to 
be off. Haven't been riding for a week. 

James. Won't you wait till I see the man? I'll be back in half 
an hour. 

Jess. Wait nothing. Will and I will go, won't we, Will? We'll 
see you at lunch. 

James. [Looking at Will] Go with Will, without me? Not if 
I can help it. All right ! I'll telephone him. [Exit. 

Jess. [Delightedly.] Oh! He's jealous! He's jealous! And 
he looks so handsome when he's jealous! 

[Will frowns. Goes over and takes her hands. 

Will. Give me a kiss, Jess. 

Jess. Not this morning, Wee-Wee. 

Will. You must. 

Jess. Why must I ? 

Will. Because I say so ! 

Jess. [Mockingly] "Because I say so !" That settles it, doesn't 
it, Mr. High Mightiness ! Wee-Wee zvill have his own way ! 

Will. Come on ! Give me a kiss ! 

Jess. Will you be real good if I do? 

Will. Oh! sure! Ain't I always good? 

Jess. Good? [Kissing him.'\ You're the worst boy in town! 

Will. That's why you like me. 

Jess. I do believe it has something to do with it. But it isn't 
that I like your badness. Will, so much as that I want to make you 
better. 

Will. Well, 3^ou never will, till you marry me. 

Jess. If you don't get over your badness before marriage, I'm 
afraid you never will afterwards. 

JVill. Try me and see. 

Jess. I'll think about it. 



10 DROSS 

Will. All right, Jess. Now, remember, Fm in earnest. We've 
talked about this before and I've always meant what I said, but 
this time I'm more in earnest than ever. You've just got to marry 
me, or I'll know the reason why ! [He kisses her -fiercely. 

Jess. There, Will, that'll do. You've mussed me all up. [Fixes 
her hair.1 What would James say if he came in just now? 

Will. What has James to say? Aren't you mine? 

Jess. Oh ! no ! Not quite ! 

Will. [Slozvly between his teeth.] James is my brother, but if 
ever he gets you away from me 

Jess. Oh ! Will ! Don't look like that ! You scare me ! 

Will. Jess ! I tell you, sometimes I'm scared of myself. 
Enter Mrs. Wylie. 

Mrs. W. Your Uncle Nate is at the phone, sor, and wishes to 
spake wid ye ! [Exit. 

Will. All right. I wonder where Jim went. Excuse me, Jess, 
for a few minutes. [Exit. 

Enter James. 

James. Well, I called the appointment off, and ordered the car- 
riage. It'll be at the door directly. Where's Will? 

Jess. He's at the phone. Your Uncle Nate called him up. 

James. [Shrugs shoulders and smilcs.l Oh! Uncle Nate! 

Jess. They're always phoning each other, aren't they? 

James. Yes. Just like a pair of lovers. Uncle Nate thinks Will's 
the whole thing and talks to him over the phone for half an hour 
at a time. Did you decide on somewhere to go? 

Jess. No, we didn't. What would you suggest? 

James. I suggest that we leave Will at the phone and that you 
go for a ride with me ! 

Jess. Oh ! Jim ! That would be a lark ! But Will would never 
forgive us. 

James. What do you care? 

Jess. Oh I I'm afraid. But it would be such a joke. And Will 
is always so bound to have his own way, I almost feel like doing 
it, just to see him get real mad! 

James. Well ! Come on, then. 

Jess. Oh ! no ! I don't believe I dare. 

James. [Takes her by the arm.] Oh! come on! [Lifts her out 
of chair, and pulls her towards door. She slowly yields, listening 
and smiling.] Hurry up, Jess, if you're coming. He'll be here 
in a minute. [They run off. Will heard zvithout. 

Will. (Calling.) John. 



DROSS II 

Enter Will. 
IVill. John! John!! John!!!. 

Enter Fannie. 

Fan. Did you call John? 

JVill. Yes. Tell him to hitch up the two bays in the carriage. 
I'm going to take Miss Cole for a drive ! 

Fan. Why, Mr. York ! He's gone, sir ! 

Will. Gone? what do you mean? 

Fan. He just drove off with Miss Cole and your brother. 

Will. Phew ! The devil ! 

Fan. [Comes a little closer, looks up at him and presses lips 
together.'] 

Will. [Frozvning slightly.] Well please tell Mrs. Wylie that 
Miss Cole will be here to spend the day. 

Fan. [Moving slowly to door.1 Yes, sir. 

[She stops, looks over shoulder, smiles, hesitates. 

Will. Oh! go on [Fannie whisks out in a huff.] So! Brother 
Jim ! This is your answer to me, is it ? Defiance ! It's war, not 
peace, you want, eh ? Very well. War let it be ! In business, in 
love, from now on, forever, so help me never to forget. I'll grip 
success in spite of all your plans, and hate shall be the power that 
drives my car to fortune! [Sits down.l I must think. I must get 
my plans together, I must see Ward and ask him to get me another 
position. 

Enter Ward. 

Why, Ward ! 

Ward. Good morning, Will ! 

Will. Just the man I was wanting to see ! You must have 
dropped from the skies in answer to my wish. Some good angel 
must have sent you. 

Ward. Not to you, old boy. The good angels have given you up, 
I fancy. 

Will. Oh ! I've reformed. I'm going to get rich ! 

Ward. [Laughs.] 

Will. What's the matter ? 

Ward. That's rich, indeed. You get rich? Never, Bill, never. 
You may make money, but you'll never get rich. It'll slip through 
your fingers like fine flour through a sifter. 

Will. I'll make enough to clog the sifter. Damn it, Ward ! I tell 
you, I have got to make money. I have made up my mind. You 
know I'm pretty obstinate. I shall succeed ! 



12 DROSS 

Ward. Oh ! You're obstinate enough, old fellow, but it needs more 
than that to make money nowadays. It needs a far-seeing mind, a 
planning head, a calculating brain. 

Will. And you think I haven't got all that? 

Ward. No, I'm afraid you've not. 

Will. I'll prove to you that I have. [Looks around.1 Ah! I 
have it. Let's have a game of chess. 

Ward. [Surprised.] A game of chess? Oh! I don't mind. 
Rather early in the day. but I've nothing special to do. I'd just 
as soon. 

[They pull table forivard, sit dozvn to it and begin to arrange 
the men. Ward takes the red.l 

Will. No ! The red's my color. Ward. Let me have it, please ! 

Ward. The red? Why so? It's all the same to me. 

[They change colors. 

Will. Red! Yes! It is the color of life; of force; of strength. 
White is the symbol of all that is opposite to my desires and ambi- 
tions. [Leans elbozv on table and contemplates board.] Did it ever 
occur to you, Ward, hov/ the game of chess almost exactly typifies 
the game of life? 

Ward. Why, no ! Can't say it ever did. 

Will. Each move upon this board represents, we may say, an 
action in one's life. Some men move by impulse, and win or lose 
by what seems accident or luck. Some move, after long thought and 
calculation, of the far-reaching effects that it will have on the 
game. Every move 3^ou make on this board carries with it a thou- 
sand possible combinations. One wrong move now, may, through its 
results on many future moves, bring, in the end, loss of the game — 
or in life, failure. You make a certain move of your own free 
will. You think you are free, but are you? For instance, you move 
this pawn, I this, you this. I take it. It is the King's gambit. I 
am forced to follow your lead so far. But now you move your 
Knight. My free will has returned. I can choose between several 
counter moves. Yet my whole game is affected by your opening 
gambit. But now, I sit and ponder. I look ahead. I plan. I con- 
centrate my thought and will on ultimate success. I see where, here 
and there, I can win an advantage over you. At last I move. [He 
moves.^ There! Unless the unforeseen or unexpected happens — 
you will be mate in twenty moves ! I tell you, Ward, in life, as 
in chess, the greatest success will always come to him, as you said 
awhile ago, who can see and plan the greatest number of moves 



DROSS 13 

ahead — aye, and also to him, of iron will, who is determined that his 
combinations will succeed. 

Ward. Yes, I guess you're right, old man. 

Will. And as the game of chess typifies the game of life, so he 
who plays a good game in one has it in him, I say, to play a good 
game in the other! Don't you agree with me, Ward? 

Ward. Well, maybe so, maybe so. 

[They continue to move slowly as they converse. 

Will. [Suddenly. 1 Say, Ward, can you get me a job? 

Ward. What! Have you lost your soft snap at the gas works? 

Will. Yes, I've lost my job, or will, in a short time. Can you get 
me another — at the foundry. A good one? I'm willing to work, 
but I want good pay. 

Ward. My dear fellow, to tell you the truth, I don't think I can 
do a thing for you 

Will. [Shortly. '\ I see. You think I am down and out 

Ward. Now, now. Will York, don't be an ass ! You know I'd 
do anything I could for you, but you know I'm not the high mucky 
muck at the foundry. Uncle Bob's the boss, and you know how he 
feels towards you. He thinks you're too much on the girl, too 
little on the meeting house proposition. 

Will. Yes ! I know his damned Quaker priggishness. 

Ward. Oh! say! Remember, he's my uncle. And to tell the 
truth, my dear boy, this is a Quaker town, and you've just about 
turned it upside down. What with j^our drinking sprees, and your 
sprees with the girls, you've certainly worked up a peach of a 
reputation— a peach— of — a —reputation ! I don't believe a single 
good concern in town would give you a decent berth, in spite of 
your family connections. 

Will.^ But I tell you. Ward, I've got to get rich. I must do 
something. 

Ward. Well, I'll tell you in two words what to do for a beginning 

Will. What? 

Ward. Leave town. 

Will. By G— d ! I will ! 

Ward. Good ! 

Will.. [Moves.] There! Check mate! What did I tell you? 
Mate in fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, tiventy moves ! 

Enter John. 

John. Mr. Rogers to see you, sir. 
Will. To see me, John? 



14 DROSS 

John. Yes, sir. 

Will. Why, I wonder what he's calling on me for. Now, if it 
were Jim. 

John. He asked for Mr. James first, sir, but when I told him 
Mr. James was out, he asked to see you. 

Will. Where is he? 

John. In the hall, sir. 

Will. Show him in here. 

John. Yes, sir. [Exit John. 

Ward. Well, I guess I'll move along. See you again soon. 

Will All right. Good-bye. [Exit Ward. 

Enter Rogers. 

Rogers. Good morning. Will ! Where's Jim ? 

Will. [Meeting him and shaking hands.] Good morning, Mr. 
Rogers. Jim? He's out — driving. 

Rogers. [Surprised.] Driving? 

Will. [Surprised at his surprise.'] Yes, he went out with Jessie 
Cole about an hour ago. Why, may I ask? 

Rogers. Didn't he tell 5^ou he had an appointment with me? 

Will. Well, come to think of it, he did say something about an 
appointment, but I didn't know it was with you, or that it was 
very important. 

Rogers. It was, both. See here, Will, do you want to get rich? 

Will. [Starts.] Do— I~want— to get— rich? Wei), I— should— 
say — yes ! 

Rogers. Well, if you come in with me, we'll both be millionaires 

in a few years. But it will mean stick to it like h 1. and work 

like the d 1. Can you — or, rather, will you do it? 

Will. [After a pause, striking the table with his iist.] Y'es. 

Rogers. I'll say this. I think it's in you. You have the determina- 
tion that we need, to succeed. I had almost arranged with Jim. 
He was to sell out the gas stock for twenty-five thousand dollars 
and go in with me. But he's not business. He's been shilly-shal- 
lying with me for a month. I told him to call at ten this morning, 
as I was ready to settle it. Here he's put me off again, and gone 
driving with a girl. You're bad enough on the girl question, but 
I've watched you. If it were a choice between a girl and success, 
you would take success, I think. 

Will. You're right. I would. Well, he's lost his chance, through 
his own foolishness, and to tell you the truth, I'm glad of it. He 



DROSkS 15 

had no right to sell that gas stock against my wish. What do you 
want me to do? 

Rogers. Well, the first thing is, can you raise twenty-five thou- 
sand cash ? I will put in seventy-five thousand. I must have a good 
man with me who will put in twenty-five thousand more. 

Will I haven't got it, but I might raise it through Uncle Nate, 
if it looks good. He thinks a good deal of me and might lend me 
the money. What's the proposition? 

Rogers. A duty will soon be put on copper. I have inside infor- 
mation that it will be high. Copper wire is coming into more and 
more general use. No metal to take its place. The best wire is 
now all made abroad. When the tariff is put on, there will be several 
hundred per cent profit on the manufacture of copper wire, and with 
a hundred thousand dollar plant we can turn out about a million 
dollars worth of copper wire a year. I have an option on a factory 
building near Chicago. It won't take us long to get started. Here 
are the main figures. [Tkcy sit down and sfitdy them a zvhile. 

Will. It looks good. 

Rogers. All right. Get your twenty-five thousand and I'll take 
you in. But it must be done at once. 

Will. I'll get it. 

Rogers. Well, good-bye. I'll give you a couple of days. Let 
me know day after tomorrow without fail. Keep this, of course, 
a dead secret, unless necessary to help you borrow the money. 
[Going.] And, by the way, you can tell Jim, if you like, that our 
deal's off! 

Will. Good ! I will. [Exit Rogers. Will sits down at chess table 
and rearranges men.} I'll try that new gambit. Jim shall take the 
white. [Moves severil times.] Yes, Jim, you made the first move — 
and I have taken your gambit. [Moves.] But here I think is check! 
What will you for that ? Ah ! My Queen ! That leaves her exposed. 
[Ponders over board.] The question is — will he, or won't he take 
her? 

Enter Fannie. 

Fan. Lunch is ready, sir ! 

Will. Hello, Fannie! [Starts, stands up. Looks at watch.} 
What! Noon already? [Smiles.] 

Fan. [Primly.} Yes, sir. 

Will. Come here, Fannie. 

Fan. What for? 

Will. I want to give you something. 

Fan. [Takes a step closer.] What? 



i6 DROSS 

Will. [Takes a stride toward her.'] Another 

Fan. IGives a coquettish little scream.] Oh! nevaire ! [.Runs out- 
Will. Damn girls, anyway ! 

[James and Jess heard laughing and talking zvithout. 

Enter James and Jess. 

James. Hello, Will! Lunch ready? 

Will. [Shortly.] Yes. 

Jess. Oh! he's cross. Are you mad, Will? 

Will. No. What should I be mad about? 

Jess. Because we ran off and left you. Of course you're mad. 
Old cross patch ! [Sings : Will is Mad and I am Glad, and J Knozv 
What'll please him . . . .] [Exit, taking off wraps. 

Will. I suppose you think j^ou drew first blood, eh, Mr. Gas 
Stock Seller? 

James. [Nonchalantly.] Oh! Maybe so. 

Will Quite a lady killer, ain't you, with your college airs and 
dude stunts. I can't see how it is, if I haven't had your opportuni- 
ties. Jess is dazzled at first. You're new. I'm a well-read story 
to her. But she'll get over that. I'm the one she will take — at the 
last. 

James. I wouldn't be too sure of that. We had a very pleasant 
little talk this morning while out. 

Will. You scoundrel ! Do you mean 

James. Oh ! anything you like. 

Will. No ! I won't be nagged into a row. I know her better 
than you. I know by her manner there's nothing serious between 
you — yet. But I've some pleasant news for you. 

James. Yes? 

Will. Rogers called while you were out. 

James. [Nerz'ously.] What did he say? 

Will. Oh ! told me the inside of a few things — about gas stock, 
copper wire, etc. 

James. Offered you a job? 

Will. No. He told me to tell you the deal was off. 

James. God ! And I gave Ferguson an option on that stock this 
morning while I was out. Stopped in at his office on the way to 
the park with Jess. I hope Ferguson can't sell. Can't get another 
investment like it in a thousand years. What's Rogers' deal off for? 
Can't he make it? 

Will. Oh! he can make it, all right. But he's going to make it 
with another man. 



DROSS 17 

James. Who? 

Will. Me. . . .> . 

James. [Scornfully.^ "i^ou? 

S. '^J^'a^e strong reed for him to le.. o.. How m^ 
davs a week will you spend at busniess? About two, if your 
record at thecal works counts. [Suddenly.^ You're lymg anyway. 
He [i more gumption than to take you for a partner. And then, 
Where's your twenty-five thousand? 

Will Well, it won't be trust funds, anyway. 

Janes Trust funds be damned! Mother knovys all about it and 
agreed to it which is her privilege under the will. Anyhow, your 
gfose is cooked. I guess I come in ahead of you on that deal. You 
haven't got the money. 

Will I can borrow it, I suppose. 

James You borrow it? Well, that's rich Not on your face 
vour figure or vour reputation. Borrow it? Man alive I wouldn t 
^•?ve two whoops in hades for the chance you hf^o borrowing 
Twenty-five hundred, much less twenty-five thousand, dollars. [EMt. 

END OF ACT I. 



i8 DROSS 



ACT II. 



Scene. As before. Afternoon. less discovered, in house gown, 
with pile of journals , day books, ledgers and small memo book; 
writing in one of the books. Enter Fannie. 

Fan. Mr. Ward, ma'am. 
Jess. Show him in, Famiic. 

{Exit Fannie. She returns and ushers in Mr. Ward. 

Enter Ward. 

Ward. Good afternoon, Miss Cole. 

Jess. How do yon do, Mr. Ward. Won't you sit down? 

[He sits down near her. 

Ward. Are you very busy? 

Jess. Oh, awful ! 

Ward. I didn't know you did bookkeeping. 

Jess. I don't. 

Ward. Well, what, why 

Jess. I'm only playing at it, to please mamma. She has a fad 
that every girl ought to learn something useful. 

Ward. Useful? 

Jess. Yes. Cooking, sewing, typewriting, or — bookkeeping. I 
chose bookkeeping. 

Ward. Well, how do you like it ? 

Jess. Like — fudge! — I don't think! 

Ward. I shouldn't think you would be much of a bookkeeper. 

Jess. That's all you know about it. Mr. Superior ! My teacher 
says I have a natural aptitude for bookkeeping. I hardly ever make 
a mistake in my additions and my last trial balance was only eight 
hundred and ninety-nine dollars and ninety-nine cents out. 

Ward. Only eight hundred and ninety-nine 

Jess. [Eagerly. ^ Yes! You see, I added in nine hundred dol- 
lars twice in one column, and made a mistake of one cent in another 
column. 

Ward. Ah ! 

Jess. So you see it wasn't really a very bad error. Why, any 
bookkeeper might have made it ! 

Ward. Of course. 



DROSS 19 

Jess. The trouble was, that once I had it made, it seemed to 
carry itself along into every old account in my books. The 
teacher told me that the best way to do was to puzzle it out for 
myself, and say! If I didn't chase that eight hundred and ninety- 
nine dollars and ninety-nine cents through more'n about ten million 
dollars worth of figures, I'm another! Gee! Talk about looking 
for a needle in a hay stack ! 

Ward [Picking up small memo book out of pileA What's this? 
Your petty cash? 

Jess. [Snatching it away.] Oh, No ! That's my personal private 
ledger. 

Ward. Oh! Excuse me! Keep your private accounts in it? 
Dress, candy, etc., eh? 

Jess. No! Sh ! I keep my own private secret account in it! 

Ward. What's that? 

Jess. It's an account I expect to keep until I am married, and 
then 

Ward. And then? 

Jess. And then I'll take out a trial balance and see if it agrees. 

Ward. With what? 

Jess. Why, what does a trial balance agree with? With itself, 
of course. I'll see if its debits or troubles, agree with its credits — 
or happiness, [^'ig/u.j 

Ward. Ah ! Yes ! Er — That reminds me, [haltingly] that I called 
— to — see you — this morning — ah. [Stops.'\ 

Jess. I see you did. 

Ward. With the object — 

Jess. Yes ? 

Ward. Of asking you to marry me. 

Jess. [Latcghing.] Oh! ^Ir. Ward! This is so sudden! 

Ward. [Getting doivn on one knee and takes her hand.'] Miss 
Cole, you treat me with too much frivolity. I am in deadly earnest. 

Jess. [Pulls hand azvay, gets up and moves off a little zvay.) Mr, 
Ward! Get up! What if Will or James should come in? I'd never 
hear the last of this ! 

Ward. [Gets up and follows her.] Jim or Will are nothing to me. 
Today must decide my fate. [He tries to take her hands. She puts 
them behind her, smiling.] Answer me. Jess. Will you marry me? 

Jess. [Laughing.] Oh ! Mr. Ward ! Pardon me ! I can't help 
laughing. Not because I do not appreciate you, but because [hys- 
terically] Oh ! Mr. Ward — you — remind me — of a — story, I read the 
other day in a magazine. 



20 DROSS 

Ward. Oh ! Very well, Miss Jessie. If you insist on insulting 
me, when I call with an honorable proposal of marriage — 

Jess. Ah ! Come now, Mr. Ward. Don't let's quarrel. We're 
such old friends. I think you are really the only true friend that 
Will has in the world. Believe me, I wouldn't hurt you for any- 
thing. But marry you ! Why, you know I don't love you ! Come 
now [teas'mgly], confess you were only joking! 

Ward. [Smiling ruefully.'] Ah! You witch, you! I don't wonder 
half the fellovv^s in town are crazy about you ! You can't blame me. 
But, well, that's over. You know my weak spot. I never could 
stand being laughed at. 

Jess. Well, that's all right. [Holds out her Jiand.] Let's shake 
and make up, and still be friends ! 

Ward. [Sviiliiig and shaking hand.] Agreed. But, Jess, tell me, 
confidentially now, who will it be? You've certainly stirred up 
trouble enough in this town, and as for these two young tigers, in 
this house, if they're not on the verge of war — then I'm no judge. 
You zi'ill take one or the other, won't you? 

Jess. [Softly.] Yes. 

Ward. W^ill it be Jim? 

Jess. Maybe so ! Maybe not ! 

Ward. Well, I for one, hope not. 

Jess. [Eagerly. ] Why ? 

Ward. Because Bess loves him. 

Jess. Oh ! I don't think so. If she did, she'd have told me. 

Ward. She's too loyal to you. 

Jess. [Meditafiz'ely.] It might be. I think she likes him. 

Ward. She's over here a good deal. 

Jess. Only when I'm here. [Suddenly.] Maybe she's interested 
in Will. 

Ward. I don't think so. But say, Jess, you owe me something 
for the fun you got out of me. Tell me on the strict Q. T. — word of 
honor, I won't breathe a whisper — which will it be? 

Jess. [Puts finger on lips.] Sh ! You won't tell a soul? 

Ward. Swear to gr.icious ! 

Jess. Well— 

Ward. Yes? 

Jess. I — don't know ! 

Ward. Pshaw! [Picks up hat and moves off.} Well, I must be 
going. See you at supper time. Will invited me over. Good-bye. 
Jess. But mind this, there's trouble coming. Trouble coming. [Exit. 

Jess. Well, I guess I'll balance my private account book. [Opens 



DROSS 21 

memo book and studies over it. Enter Bess, softly, goes up behind, 
puts hand over Jess's eyes; Jess gives a little screamJi Oh ! Who is 
it? [Bess laughs softly. Jess feels hands and up arms.H It's Bess! 

Bess. [Removing hands.] Good guess. 

Jess. I'm so glad you've come! How are you, you darling? 

Bess. Just fine! [They embrace.] How are you? What've you 
been doing? 

Jess. Nothing much. Stirring up trouble, mostly. 

Bess. You mischief, you ! I know. You've got these two boys 
here on a string and you're playing one off against the other. But I 
tell you what, Jess, dear, you're playing with fire and tow, and some 
day there will be a blaze that may scorch you, my lady! 

Jess. Oh ! I'm not afraid. 

Bess. Well, darling, watch out, that's all. But what are all 
these books for? Have you started up in business? 

Jess. I'm learning bookkeeping. 

Bess. Holy smoke! You're a daisy! What next, I wonder? 

Jess. Oh ! Bess ! You can help me. Come here. [Sits dozvn at 
table and takes memo book.] Here's a book I've got to balance. 

Bess. Well, I don't know anything about balancing except in 
quadrilles. [Lifts skirt and takes a fezv steps.) Balance to part- 
ners! [Court sies.] 

Jess. Oh ! Do stop and come and help me. [Mysterioiisly.] You 
would if you knew what it's about ! 

Bess. Would I? What is it? 

Jess. It's — it's — a — secret. 

Bess. A secret? 

Jess. Yes. It's about a fellow. 

Bess. Oh! [Comes closer.] 

Jess. Two fellows. 

Bess. Tell about it. 

Jess. Well, I'm going to balance 'em up in this book and find 
out — 

Bess. Which wins? 

Jess. [Nods.] 

Bess. [Throws hat up in air.] Oh! Joy! That's a new way on 
me! Come on! Come on! Come on! [Pulls up choir.] What 
shall I do? 

Jess. It's easy. All you have to do, is write down what I tell 
3'ou. Here's some trial balance paper and a pen. Now, write ! Put 
"debit" on one column, "credit" on the other, and mark on top of 
this page "J. I. M." 



22 DROSS 

Bess. [Writes.] O. K. 

Jess. Now turn over the page and do the same, and mark this 
page "W. I. L. L." 

Bess. [Turns over and writes.] O. K. 

Jess. Now, let me think! First, we'll have to have a standard. 

Bess. O. K. 

Jess. Oh ! Shut up. 

Bess. Don't bookkeepers always say O. K. ? 

Jess. No, they don't. Now this is serious. We must have a 
standard to judge them by, like they do at dog shows. 

Bess. That's right. I s-aw 'em judging a couple of bull pups 
once, and they made a lot of marks in a little booklet, just like this! 

Jess. Well, we'll do the same. 

Bess. And then the pups had a fight. 

Jess. Shut up. 

Bess. And the one with the most points got licked. 

Jess. Well, ours won't. 

Bess. Maybe they will, who knows? 

Jess. For land's sake, Bess, hush up, and let's get this started. 
Fm dying to see who will come out ahead. 

Bess. O. K. 

Jess. So we'll say that each good quality is to be judged by a 
standard of one hundred points, and every bad quality the same. 
Then we'll add 'em up, and whichever has the biggest credit balance, 
I'11_F11— 

Bess. Marry ? 

Jess. Maybe. 

Bess. And Fll marry the other. 

Jess. Oh! Will you, honest? 

Bess. Maybe. 

Jess. All right ! Begin ! Take Good Looks first. Credit Jim for 
Good Looks [ponders] ninety. Will, one hundred. [Bess zvrites.} 
Got that? 

Bess. O. K. 

Jess. If you say O. K. again, Fll throw this ledger at you. 

Bess. Oh !— Don't ! 

Jess. For Dress. Credit Jim ninety; Will, one hundred. 

Bess. O — [Jess stretches out hand to hook.'] Fudge! I think 
Jim dresses in much better taste than Will. 

Jess. Well, you're not to be the judge. 

Bess. Anyhow, I guess he can bite better. 

Jess. I hope he bites you. 



DROSS 23 

Bess. Oh ! Please ! Don't be so cruel. 

Jess. Now, come on, hurry up ! Let's finish it up and see how 
it comes out. Good Temper, Will forty ; Jim fifty. [Bess keeps on 
writing.] Education, Will seventy. Jim, a hundred. Liberality, 
Will ninety; Jim, seventy. These are all the credits / can think of. 

Bess. How about religion and — honesty? 

Jess. Bess, I believe you mark them both up even on those two 
points. 

Bess. Well, / can't think of anything else, either. 

Jess. So now for the debits. I think Will's ahead, isn't he, so 
far? 

Bess. [Adds up to herself.] Yes, he's ahead. 

Jess. How much? 

Bess. Never mind, how much. He's not very far ahead. Go on ; 
we'll balance them when we get done. 

Jess. All right. Now, let's see! Drink! Oh! Dear! Will is— 

Bess. One hundred. 

Jess. Do you really think so? 

Bess. Certain. [Writes.] 

Jess. And Jim is — 

Bess. Aught, aught, aught. 

Jess. I suppose so. It don't seem fair. He might have been 

fifty, or even twenty-five. 

Bess. But he ain't. 

Jess. No, he ain't. 

Bess. So there you are. There's three big O's for you, Jimmy 
dear. 

Jess. Girls. 

Bess. You mean women. 

Jess. Yes, women. 

Bess. [Whispering.! Bad women. 

Jess. Yes ; ivicked ones, Jim eighty — 

Bess. Nine. 

Jess. Will ninety — 

Bess. Eight. 

Jess. I guess that's about right. Well, that's all the debits I can 
think of. Can you think of any more? 

Bess. No. 

Jess. All right. Add up. I'm afraid — 

Bess. [Adds up.] Oh! Say! I know some more credits. 

Jess. Oh! Do you? What are they? 

Bess. There's dancing. 



24 D R O § S 

Jess. Goody! Now, we'll fix 'em. Will, a hundred; Jim, thirty. 

Bess. V/h}^, Jessie Cole ! You cheat, you ! 

Jess. Bess, how dare you? 

Bess. Why, you know just as well as anything that Jim dances 
perfectly. 

Jess. Don't dance as well as Will. 

Bess. Pretty nearly. 

Jess. Not anywhere near. 

Bess. Yes, he does, and you know it. You're nothing but a dirty 
old cheat. You want Will to be ahead. 

Jess. Don't, anything of the sort. And T won't be called a cheat 
by you. The idea. Who do you think you are? 

Bess. I don't have to think. I'm just as good as you, if you are 
so high and mighty, Miss Cole. I guess I have a few friends who 
think I'm all right, and at any rate I'm not such a miserable little 
old flirt and cheat as you are ! So there ! 

Jess. Oh ! Very well ! You want a quarrel. You can have it. 
Don't speak to me again. You're a false friend. I — don't love you 
any more. [Puts handkerchief to eyes.'\ Leave [sobs] this house! 

Bess. Oh ! Darling ! Don't cry I I don't want a quarrel. I was 
only joking. Come on. Let's make up. You're not a flirt, at least, 
no more than I am. 

Jess. You said I was a cheat, too. 

Bess. Well, you're not, sweetheart. Come on, you're not mad, 
are you? Give me a kiss. [They embrace and sit doum again.] Will, 
one hundred, Jim thirty. 

Jess. No, make Jim one hundred, too. 

Bess. No, you said thirty. 

Jess. I've changed my mind. 

Bess. Well, I'm not going to give him a hundred. That wouldn't 
be fair either. Let's call it ninety-seven. 

Jess. All right! 

Bess. Now. Here's another. Go-a-head-ed-ness. 

Jess. Fine. Will, one hundred. 

Bess. That's no lie. Jim, eighty. 

Jess. Five. 

Bess. O. K. Health. 

Jess. Will, one hundred Jim, sixty-five. 

Bess. O. K. 

Jess. Here's another. Manners. 

Bess. The most important of all. 

Jess. Will, one hundred. 



DROSS 25 

Bess. Jim, thirt3^ 

Jess. No; sixty. 

Bess. Forty. 

Jess. Fifty. 

Bess. Compromise and call it forty-five. 

Jess. Make it nine and I'll go you. 

Bess. O. K. Forty-nine. What next? 

Jess. I'm burnt out. I can't think of a thing more. 

Bess. Neither can I. 

Jess. All right. Add up. 

Bess. [Adding; sotfo voice. 1 Two hundred, three, forty-four, 
five. [Aloud.] Will, seven hundred and forty-two; Jim, nine hun- 
dred and thirty-eight. 

Jess. Oh ! 

Bess. No! That's wrong. [Adds up again.'] There, that's right. 
I've added them up seven times, and what do you think? 

Jess. What? What? 

Bess. They're both exactly alike ! 

Jess. Impossible. 

Bess. Add 'em yourself. [Pushes hook over.] 

Jess. [Adds.] That's right! Well, I'll declare! Who ever 
heard of such a thing? [Stamps foot.] Darn the old bookkeeping, 
anyhow. [Tears up hook, and flings into fireplace. Throzi's the other 
hooks into a corner.] I hate it! I'll never do any more again. 

Bess. [To audience.] And all because the right man didn't 
win ! 

Jess. [Throzi'S herself on sofa.] Bess, come here, dear. I want 
to ask you something. 

Bess. [Goes over and sits hcside her.] What is it? 

Jess. Bess. I simply don't know how to choose between these 
two boys. Sometimes I think I will take one, and then, at other 
times, I think I will take the other. Did you ever see such a 
weathercock? But I've got to settle it now. I positively promised 
Jim I would decide in a few days, and I'm afraid if I put it off, 
much longer, there will be trouble. 

Bess. There certainly will. I can feel it in the atmosphere. It's 
like electricity in the air, just before a thunder storm. 

Jess. Well, dear [coaxinglyl, help me out. What shall I do? 
How shall I decide? You were engaged once. You know all 
about it. 

Bess. [Seriously.] Yes, dear, I can tell you how to choose. 

Jess. Oh, can you ? Will you ? 



26 DROSS 

Bess. Yes ! There is one sure and certain test, to which you can 
put them both, which will decide the question for you. 

Jess. Oh! What is it? Tell me quick! 

Bess. You have been trying to decide which was the better man, 
haven't you? 

Jess. Yes. 

Bess. Which would make the better husband? 

Jess. Yes. 

Bess. Measured by this or that gauge, you find that one is better 
in one way, the other in another, but summed up, as you did it, — 
in the strangest manner, — they both come out even, don't they? 

Jess. Yes, dear. 

Bess. Well, darling, all men are more or less bad and good. Com- 
posed of more or less virtue and vice. Averaged up, the mass of 
men are pretty much of a muchness. The real question for you to 
decide, dear — 

Jess. Is? 

Bess. Not v/ho is the better man, or who will make you the bet- 
ter husband, from this or that viewpoint, but, — which, tested by the 
touchstone of your heart, is the one you love with all your being and 
soul. 

Jess. Oh ! Bess ! 

Bess. Yes, dear. Trust me, that is what you must decide. And 
what's more, not even your mother, sister, or dearest friend can 
really help you, at a time like this. The true fire burns clearly 
within. Feed it with the fuel of true love. Do not quench it, with 
a shovelful of dross ! 

Jess. I feel you're right, Bess ! 

Enter Fannie. 

Fan. Miss Cole, Mrs. York is sitting up and said that if you 
were not too busy, she would like to have you come and read to 
her a little. 

Jess. Tell her Til be there directly. [Exit Fannie. 1^ I must clear 
these things up a little. You go up and see her, Bess. She'll be 
glad to see you. Tell her Fni coming. 

Bess. All' right. [Exit. 

[Jess begins picking up hooks and piling them in a corner.] 

Enter James. 

James. Say, Jess, Fve been looking for you. I want to see you 
about something. 



DROSS 27 

Jess. Is it important? Because I've got to go up and read to 
your mother. 

James. Oh ! Let her wait a while. See here, Jess, you remember 
our little talk in the buggy yesterday? 

Jess. Of course. 

James. Well, Jess, you told me to wait a few days. It's too hard 
to wait like this in suspense. Jess, why do you want me to wait? 
It's so easy to say yes. 

Jess. Perhaps, when you've made up your mind. 

James. All right. Make up your mind. 

Jess. I can't, just now. 

James. Oh ! Jess ! I will make you a good husband. Take me. 
You know I'm steady and dependable. I can't give you great 
wealth, but I can give you a happy home. 

Jess. If I love you. 

James. Well, don't you love me? 

Jess. Sometimes. 

James. And sometimes you love — 

Jess. Your brother. 

James. By heavens ! He shall not have you. Jess, dear, do not 
trifle. Marry me and I swear I will make you happy. But for God's 
sake, put an end to this uncertainty. It is driving me wild. Tell 
me, dear, tell me you will. 

Jess. I won't today, James, I simply can't. But I'll think it over 
and answer you soon. 

James. When? 

Jess. Tomorrow. 

James. [Going.] Well, I suppose I must be content with that. 
But tomorrow, Jess, remember I shall insist on having an answer. 

Jess. All right, Jim, [Going'] I'll give you an answer — tomorrow ! 

[Exit. 
Enter Fannie. 

Fan. Mr. Ferguson, sir. 

James. All right. [Exit Fannie. 

Enter Ferguson, shuzcn in by Fannie. 

Ferguson. How's a' wi' you, Jeems? 

James. Pretty good, Mr. Ferguson. [Offers chair. Ferguson 
sits doivn.] 

Ferg. Thank ye, I've brought you over a check for that gas 
stock. The man took up the option you gave this mornin.' [Hands 
check.] Twenty-five thousand net, after deducting brokerage, etc. 



28 DROSS 

James. [Taking check.'] Thank you, Mr. Ferguson. It seems 
a shame to sell such good stock. 

Ferg. Ay, but the purchaser is glad to get it! He thinks he's 
got a gold mine. Eighteen per cent deevidends last year. 

James. Well, it is a gold mine. Safe as a rock and four times 
what you get for city bonds. 

Ferg. Aweel ! 'Tis pretty good ! It might be waur. But no so 
safe as you think — that's my opeenion, York, if you want it. 

James. Oh, I know you've advised me to sell for sometime, but 
I can't for the life of me see why. 

Ferg. I hae my doots o' its keeping up eighteen per cent deevi- 
dends ; that's all, laddie I was your father's friend and financial 
advisor and he pretty generally took my advice, when it came to a 
question like this. 

James. Well, now, I've followed your advice so far. What do 
you advise next? 

Ferg. Aweel ! I think you might do waur than take a few shares 
in that brewery trust that's just been formed in London. I got a 
letter today from an auld Scots friend over there, and he tells me 
that I can depend on its being a go. The breweries in it are all 
strong and have been paying twent}^ to thirty per cent deevidends. 
There's a wheen o' silly fules that maun aye fill their bellies full 
of thin green beer. I don't drink it mysel. Old Scots whiskey is 
gude enough for me. But the beer business pays a good profit, 
laddie. You don't need to drink it. Just put your money in it. 
That's my advice. 

James. Well, I won't decide just yet, Mr. Ferguson. I have an- 
other proposition on the string. I'll think them both over. I could 
hardly do it, anyway, without consulting Mother, and she's too sick 
to bother just now. 

Ferg. [Rising.! Well, see her about it tomorrow, and let me 
know. Ye mauna let the money lie idle. If you don't like the 
breweries, I have a little plan about a street railroad I'll tell ye 
aboot. Goodbye. 

James. [Showing him out.] Thank you, Mr. Ferguson. I'll let 
you know. Let me help you on with your coat. [Exeunt. 

Voices heard zvithout. Rogers' voice heard. James very effusively 
zvelcoming him. Enter Rogers and James. 

James. Come right in, Mr. Rogers. Take your things off. Give 
me your hat. How are you today? You want to see me about — 
something? 

Rogers. [Gives hat, hut keeps on overcoat.] Well, no. I want 



DROSS 29 

to see Will. I leave town in half an hour, and there were one or 
two minor matters I wanted to see him about before I went. Is 
he in? 

James. No, he's out. But he'll be in soon. Sit down and wait 
for him, won't you? 

Rogers. [Sits dozmi.] Thanks. I'll wait a little while. I haven't 
much time. [Looks at zvafch.'l Only about fifteen minutes before 
I must leave for the depot. I'm going to Pittsburg to see about 
metal for the new factory. 

James. Are things so far along as that? 

Rogers. Sure! Hasn't Will told you? 

James. Will's as close as a clam. I don't get much information 
from him. Besides, I didn't know that you made him a confidant 
of all your plans. Say, Rogers [pulls out check], here's the 
twenty-five thousand. Let's close up that deal, as first arranged. 
You haven't got a partner yet, have you? 

Rogers. Can't do it, James. Everything's settled and closed up. 

James. It is? Pretty quick work. Who's your partner? 

Rogers. Will, He leaves for the factory tomorrow. 

James. Will? Why, I thought you said you wanted a man who 
would put in twenty-five thousand dollars? 

Rogers. Well, he has. 

James. Will has? I can't believe it. Cash? 

Rogers. [Nods.l 

James. Why, where did he get it? 

Rogers. [Rising.] Borrowed it, my dear boy. Borrowed it. On 
his note, without security. What do you think of that? Oh, I tell 
you your brother is wasted, in this small town. He is a born 
financier. He will make a name for himself. For all he's your 
brother, you don't know what's in him. He will be a great man 
some day. 

James. Well, I know one thing. He certainly has the devil's own 
luck. 

Rogers. No ; he has what you lack, James, the most indomitable 
persistence. There's a will in that boy that brooks no crossing. 
He'll get there, like Napoleon, now that he has awakened to his 
power, if he has to wade through the wrecks of a dozen business 
empires. He's just the man I need for a working partner. But I 
must be going. 

James. Wait a moment, Rogers. If all's settled about Will, as 
you say, let me in for some of your stock, anyway. Here, take 



30 DROSS 

this check. Give me twenty-five thousand dollars worth of your 
common, at par. 

Rogers. No. 

James. At a hundred and ten. 

Rogers. No, can't do it. 

James. Hundred and twenty. 

Rogers. [Shakes head.'] 

James. Fifty. 

Rogers. No, I tell you. Not at five hundred. I won't sell a 
dollar's worth of my stock at any price, and Will is under contract 
not to sell any of his except to me. This is a close corporation. 
We are going to make money, and I wouldn't divide up with any 
one under the sun. I'm sorry to refuse you, Jim, but it's your own 
fault. You had your chance and missed it. Well, goodbye. Tell 
Will I'll write him. [Exit. 

James. Damn that brother of mine ! He's ahead of me on that 
deal. He's got the shares and I'm in the soup. [Enter Will unob- 
served.] But I'll be hanged if I don't get the girl! 

Will. Oh ! You will, will you ? 

James. [Starts.] You here? 

Will. May I ask to whom you were referring, just now? 

James. You ! Damn you ! You ! You ! 

JVill. And Jess, I suppose. 

James. Yes ! You shall not get her. Don't you interfere with 
me in this ! Or if you do, look out, that's all. 

Will. Thanks for the warning, but as to that, 1 shall do as I 
please, and you may go to the devil. 

James. Oh ! I've a good mind to lick the starch out of you. 

Will. Well! I don't feel like reverting to the stone age. 

James. You're afraid, coward. 

Will. Don't provoke me. 

James. Pah ! You're a mean, miserable coward. You cut me 
out in business deals, behind my back, and you're trying to do the 
same with the girl. Come on and have it out! I'll show you! 
[Throws book in his face. Will grasps him by the collar. They 
struggle.] 

Enter Bess. 

Bess. Oh! [Screams.] 

They continue to struggle and fall against library door, which 
opens and allozvs them to fall in; then shuts. Sounds of -fight inside. 
Enter Bess, Mrs. Wylie, Fannie, and John, running. 

Jess. Why, Bess, whatever's the matter? Did you scream? 



DROSS 31 

Bess. Hush! [Points to doo7'.] 

Mrs. Wylie. By all the saints, a fight ! 

Jess. Who is it? What is it? 

Bess. Will and Jim. 

Jess. [Rushes to door and tries handle, but cannot open.1 Oh! 
Boys ! Boys I Boys ! Stop ! Open the door ! [Beats on door. John 
tries to open, but fails.] Oh! [Wrings hands.} What shall we 
do? This is dreadful. 

Bess. Oh ! I hope Mrs. York won't hear them. 

Jess. No, it would kill her to learn that her two sons were fight- 
ing. It's too awful ! 

Door flung open zvith a bang. Will enters much dilapidated. 

Will. [Points into library. 1 Call the doctor! 

Enter Ward^ hat in hand. 

Ward. Well, by heavens. [All rush into library except Will and 
Ward.] What the devil have you been doing, my dear fellow? 
[Will staggers. Ward puts arm around him. Exeunt.} 

Enter others from library, John and Wylie carrying in Jim. 
They lay him on lounge. Jess zvipes his face. Bess runs and brings 
wet tozvel. Fannie brings glass of water. Jim comes to, dazed. 

Wylie. And are ye feeling better now, Mr. Jim? John, we'd 
better take him to bed. 

Jess. Yes. go along, John. Fannie, call the doctor. [Exeunt 
John and Wylie with Jim. Also Fannie.] 

Bess. And so, the two bull pups had a fight? I told you so. 

Jess. Oh ! Bess ! Don't ! I wonder what it was all about. 

Bess. I can tell you. 

Enter Fannie. 

Fan. Mrs. York is awake, Miss, and wants to know what all the 
noise is about. 

Jess. What did you tell her? 

Fan. I told her Fd go and see. 

Jess. Oh ! Bess ! You go and tell her something — anything — I 
simply can't see her, Fm too upset. 

Bess. All right. Fll fix her up. [Exit. 

Enter Ward. 

Ward. Well, well, Jess ! This is a bad business. How is Jim ? 
Jess. Oh, he's better ! But we've sent for the doctor. How's 
Will? 



32 DROSS 

Ward. He's all right. 

Jess. Wasn't it dreadful? 

Ward. Pretty bad, pretty bad. 

Jess. Oh ! I wonder what it was all about. 

Ward. Don't you know? 

Jess. No. 

Ward. Can't you guess? 

Jess. What do you mean? Oh, surely not about — 

Ward. About you. Just that. It seems hardly possible that two 
brothers, brought up together, would ever fight like that ! But if 
they do, you might know it would be about a woman ! 

Jess. It's just simply dreadful. 

Ward. Well, my dear Miss Cole, it was about what might have 
been expected. We've all seen there was bad blood between them 
for some time. Pardon me, if I say that you have been a little hard 
on those two brothers. It was more than flesh and blood could 
bear. 

Jess. Yes, I feel I was wrong, but I just simply couldn't decide. 
Now I Vv^ish I were dead ! 

Ward. Tut tut ! Brace up. Don't cry over spilt milk. I expect 
there's no great damage done, no bones broken, or anything of that 
sort. They'll get over it. Will will be down pretty soon. He's 
fixing to leave tonight. 

Jess. What! So soon? 

Ward. Yes. He was going tomorrow anyway. Now, he's de- 
cided to leave tonight. I'm going down to the depot to see him off. 
I must go back, now, tell him about Jim and help him with his 
packing. [Exit, 

Jess sits down. Tries to read. Throws doivn hook. Picks up em- 
broidery. Can't work. Throws it dozvn. Gets up. Walks to and fro, 
restlessly. Enter Will, dressed, carrying suit case. Throzvs down 
suit case, goes out and re-enters, putting on overcoat. 

Jess. Oh, Will! Are you really going tonight? 

Will. Yes. John's hitching up. I've said goodbye to Mother. 
I'm so sorry she's too sick to see me off. Keep this scrap from 
her, if you can. 

Jess. I surely will. 

Will And now, as to 3'Ou and me, Jess. How about it? I'm 
leaving in a few minutes. Do you want to go along? 

Jess. What do you mean? 

Will. This is the last time I shall ever ask you to be my wife. 



DROSS 33 

It's yes or no, right now, this mniute. Either you're going to marry 
me, or you're not. Which is it to be? 

Jess. Oh, Will ! How can you ask me to settle a thing like that, 
in such a — jiffy? 

John puts Jicad in at door. 

John. Carriage is ready, sir. 

Will. All right. [Exit John's head.] Come now, Jess; train's 
waiting. I must be off. Yes or no. If yes, come along. We'll 
stop at Chicago and get married. What do you say ? Speak ! 

Jess. Well, yes. , 

Will. Darling! [He embraces her.] Hurry up, now, sweetheart ! 
Get your coat and hat. We'll explain it all, and leave word for 
Mother, with Ward. She'll tell your mother, when Mrs. Cole re- 
turns tomorrow. It'll be all right. Even if I'm not an angel, they'll 
accept the inevitable, after it's all over. Mrs. Cole can send your 
things on to Chicago. We'll get anything, there, that you specially 
need for the next few days ; so hurry up [looks at zvatch] ; train's 
on time, and we only have ten minutes. 

Jess. Such a man! Everything and everybody must move just 
the way you want it ! Well, all right. Will, dear, I'll come. I'll 
be ready in five minutes. Mind — you don't go without me ! 

Exit Jess in a hurry r. Will exit c. Enter John dressed as coach- 
man, picks up suit case and exit. Enter Jess, in hat and coat, carry- 
ing small bag. Stops, hesitates, lingers. 

Will. [Without.] Jess! 

She starts, picks up things; exit, c. 

END OF ACT II. 



34 DROSS 



ACT III. 

Five Years Later. 

Scene /. PVill's luxurious apartments at the Plaza Hotel, on 
Fifth Avenue, New York. Will in bed asleep. Enter Simpson with 
service of coffee, and with several letters on tray, which he sets on 
table by the bed. He proceeds to lay out clean shirt, suit of clothes, 
etc. Finds bill. Looks at it. Puts in pocket. Takes out and places 
on the table near coffee. Will awakes. 

Will. Simpson. 

Simp. Yes, sir 1 

Will. What's the time? 

Simp. A quarter pahst ten, sir. 

Will. Quarter past ten ! And a meeting of the steel company di- 
rectors down town at eleven. Why didn't you call me earlier, 
Simpson ? 

Simp. Why, you told me lahst night to call you at ten fifteen, sir. 

Will. Oh ! Last night ! I was drunk last night, wasn't I ? 

Simp. Well, sir, you were a little hunder the weather, as you 
might say, sir. 

Will. Under the tahle, you mean. 

Simp. Oh, no, sir ! Not that, sir. 

Will. Well, I was damn near it. What time did you put me to 
bed? 

Simp. At five o'clock this morning, sir. 

Will. And I told you to call me at ten fifteen? 

Simp. Yes, sir. 

Will. Well, never pay any attention to me when I'm drunk, Simp- 
son. Just do what you think's best for me. I know you're honest 
and I believe you're faithful. I won't forget you. [Reaches out 
hand and picks up bill] What's this? 

Simp. A fifty dollar bill, sir. 

Will. Who put it here ? 

Sitnp. Hi did, sir. I found it hon the floor this morning, sir. 

Will. Well, keep it. It's yours. 

Simp. Oh, thank you kindh^, sir ! 

Will. Invest it, or spend it. Don't save it. All this talk about 



DROSS 35 

saving your money is tommyrot. Look at me. Here I am ! A mil- 
lionaire at thirty, and never saved a cent in my life. 

Simp. Yes, sir. . tt j i u i 

Will sits up and tries to pour coffee into cup. Hand shatzes so He 
spills it all over cup and saucer. • t * 

Will. I'm certainly in a deuce of a shape this mornmg. I must 
brace up for that meeting. Is my bath ready? 

Simp. Your bath is turned on, sir. It'll be ready m a mmute, 
sir. [Will drinks coffee.] 

Will. Did I win or lose last night, Smipson? 

Simp. Well, sir, judging from what some of the gentlemen said, 
sir, as they were leaving, I should say, sir. that you had lost a tidy 
little bit of money, sir ! , 

Will. [Picks up mail on tray and tears open.] What s this? Bill 
for new auto; twenty thousand dollars. Hope it lasts longer than 
the old one. [Throzvs it aside; opens another.] Letter from Mile. 
Saltarello ; wants me to make her one of next party, on my yacht. 
Well, she's a friend of Belle's, and lots of fun. Guess I'll have her 
along. [Tosses aside.] 

Simp. Oh. that reminds me, sir. Miss Stapleton called up a few 
minutes ago, sir. 

JVill. Yes. . , ^. , . ^ 

Simp. I said you were asleep, so she said not to disturb you— that 
she would call in, about half past ten. 

Will That means eleven. All right, I'll drive her down town. 
[Opens another letter.] H'm! Hotel bill for last month. Iwelve 

thousand odd dollars ! Well, I'll be . What's this? H m h m, 

h'm i Bar, ten thousand and eighty-five, ninety. Good Lord ! bimp- 
son, how is it possible to drink up ten thousand dollars' worth of 
liquor in a month? 

Simp Well, sir, special vintage champagne, burgundy and clarets, 
at six to twelve dollars a bottle, for the little parties you've been 
having this last month, soon counts up. I've been trying to keep 
track of it all, sir, so they wouldn't overcharge you, and I think 
that's about the sum, sir. But 'adn't you better be getting hup, sir? 

Will. I guess I had ; bring my bath robe. [Simpson brings bath 
robe, helps him out; Will gets up.] Now, Simpson, call up the 
garage and tell him to have my new auto here at eleven. It ought 
to make Wall Street in about five minutes. The old one did it in 
ten, and this has twice the horse power. 

Simp Yes, sir. [Exit Will into bathroom.. Simpson goes to 
telephone.] Madison four eight nine. Yes. Hullo! Are you 



36 DROSS 

there? Is this the garage? This is Mr. York's valet. Mr. York 
says for you to please have his nev/ au.to at the hotel at ten twenty- 
five. Yes. Goodbye. [Telephone bell rings.] Hullo! Yes. This 
is Mr. York's apartment. No, ma'am, this is the valet. I don't 
think he's in, ma'am. I'll see. Who shall I say, please? Mrs. Sin- 
clair? Yes, ma'am. Hold the wire, please, and I'll see. [Enter 
Will partly dressed.] Mrs. Sinclair, sir, wishes to speak to you. 

Will. Sinclair, Sinclair! Now, who the dickens is she? Oh, yes! 
Cousin Lucy, who married that Chicago chap. Tell her I'm out! 

Simp. Hullo! Are you there? This Mrs. Sinclair? Yes. This 
is the valet. Mr. York is hout. What? No! Not hin ! Hout! 
Hout, I say ! No ! I cahn't say v/hen he'll be in, ma'am. Yes, I'll 
take your message. Yes. [Writes on slip of paper.] Five hundred 
and two, west one hundred and fifty-third street. All right. Good- 
bye. 

Will. What did she say? 

Simp. She gave her address, and asked if you would be so good 
as to drop her a line, and make an appointment for her to call arid 
see you on a little business matter. [Hands paper to Will.] 

Will. H'm ! Wants to borrow a thousand or so, I suppose. I've 
heard her husband got hit in the panic of ninety-three and that his 
aflfairs have been bad ever since. Poor Lucy ! I always liked her. 
We had great times together, in the old days, in Muncie. But, no ! 
I won't see her ! I will not be hampered by poor friends and rela- 
tions. I must be free to climb ! Up ! Up ! To be king of Wall 
Street! Arbiter of the finances of the world! Simpson! If Mrs, 
Sinclair ever calls again, tell her I'm out of town. I don't want to 
see her, or hear from her. You understand? 

Simp. Yes, sir. 

Will. And anybody else, you don't know. Be polite, but give 
them no information or satisfaction. Keep them all away. I don't 
want to know any of them. 

Simp. Yes, sir. [Knocking heard within. Simpson exits and re- 
enters.] A Mr. Ward, to see you, in the sitting room, sir. 

Will. Ward! How'd he get in? 

Sitnp. 'E says the clerk's an old acquaintance, sir, and as 'e said 
'e was an old friend of }^ours 'e gave 'im the number of your sitting 
room and 'e came right hup ! 

Will. I'll bet that clerk loses his job in twenty-four hours. 

Simp. He ought to, sir, and that's flat. Such hignorance ! 

Will. Tell Mr. Ward I can't see him. I'm dressing and have an 
appointment. Tell him to call at the office this afternoon. [Exit 



DROSS 37 

Sintpsoii. Will continues dressing. Attempts to Hx shirt. Drops 
collar button.] Now, where's that collar button? [Pulls things off 
dressing table, looks everywhere, kneels dozvn, looks underneath, 
throzvs things around; enter Simpson.] Simpson, if you go away 
again while I'm dressing I shall get myself another man. Where is 
my collar button ? 

Simp. Why, sir, it was right there a moment ago. [Points to 
corner of dresser.] 

Will. It was there, but I dropped it. 

Simp. Oh ! [He looks all around. Gets dozvn and crazi'ls behind 
dresser. They look evcrvzi'here. Finally Will steps on it.] 

Will. Oh ! Here it is' [Picks it up.] Well, it's done for. Get 
me another and look sharp ! [Simpson opens a drazver, takes out 
box and extracts a collar button zx.'hich he proceeds to put into shirt.] 

Simp. But, Mr. Ward, sir. 

Will. Is he coming this afternoon? 

Simp. 'E's still there, sir. [Points to sitting room door.] 

Will. Still there? 

Simp. Yes, 'e won't go awa^r, sir. Says he cahn't possibly call 
this afternoon. 'As to leave town at once. 

Wilk Well, let him leave. 

Simp. 'E says 'is business is more important to you than a di- 
rectors' meeting and 'e'll wait till you're dressed and go down town 
with you, if you don't mind. 

Will But I do mind. 

Simp. 'E hoffered to come in here and talk to you while you 
dressed, but I told him that was himpossible. 

Will. Well, I'd rather see him here and be done with it, than 
have him tagging around with me afterwards. I guess you'd better 
show him in, but come back with him and finish dressing me. 

Simp. Yes, sir. [Exits and re-enters, shozving in Ward. Then 
continues dressing Will.] 

Ward. [Coming forzvard zjuith hand outstretched. Effusively.] 
Good morning, V'/ill, old chap ! 

Will. [Languidly.] How dO; Ward. [Shakes hands.] How's 
everything in Muncie? 

Ward. Fine ! Fine ! You wouldn't know the place. Building up 
like everything. Pity you never run down to see what things look 
like. 

Will. Too many folks there I don't care to know. I've outgrown 
that little burg and its burg-like ways. Been down there once, to 
look up some street railway business. Half the old codgers in town 



38 DROSS 

slapped me on the back, called me Will or Bill, reminded me of my 
youthful escapades, and made out they were my best friends. 

Ward. Well, I dare say some of them are as good friends as 
you'll ever get on earth, Will. [Will looks at him frozvning.] Why, 
what's the matter? 

Will. You'll oblige me by not calling me "Will." It's too puerile. 

Ward. Oh! Excuse me. Want to be called by your hind name? 

Will. [Graciously.] Oh, no! You may call me "William." 

Ward. Oh, thank you, er — William. Sounds a little queer, but 
I guess I can get used to it. But to get down to business. [Nods at 
Simpson.] Can't we be alone, a few minutes? 

PVill. Why, we are. Oh ! You mean Simpson ? Why, he's no- 
body ! [Simpson looks surprised.] Fire away! He's deaf and 
dumb. [Sitnpson looks still more surprised.] 

Ward. But, it's about Jess. 

Will. I don't care who or what it's about. Simpson knows all 
my family affairs. What I haven't told him, he's guessed at, [Simp- 
son looks guilty] so go ahead, for I've only about five minutes to 
give you. 

Ward. Oh ! Very well. Jess has told me you want to divorce 
her, and as you have refused to see her, she asked me to call and 
try if I couldn't effect a reconciliation. 

Will. No. I want an absolute divorce, and I'm going to get it. 

Ward. But see here, Will [Will frozvns.] Oh, well, William, 
then. Jess loves you. She may have been a little indiscreet, but I'll 
stake my life it was nothing serious, and you know it's not for the 
pot to call the kettle black. 

Will. [Angrily.] Now, Ward, >ou may as well spare your 
breath. And don't come here to preach to me, because I won't stand 
it, even from an old friend like yourself. Jess disobeyed my com- 
mands, when I told her not to call on the Winslows, where she was 
sure to meet that fellow Cresswell. She did it, not once, but a dozen 
times. 

Ward. But— 

Will. She may have been true to me, but she has compromised 
herself with that fellow and I won't stand for it. 

Ward. You are too severe with her. 

Will. No, I'm not. I know what I want. I'll be liberal with 
her, though, for the sake of old times and the boy. I'll give her the 
home at Muncie and a million dollars cash, provided it's settled at 
once. 

Ward. Goodness, man, you'll ruin yourself. 



DROSS 39 

Will. Oh, don't worry, I have ten or a dozen millions left for 
myself. 

Ward. And made it all in five years ! It's wicked ! There must 
be something wrong in our system, when one man can accumulate 
a pile like that in such a short time! 

Will. Tut, tut! Quit moralizing. My time's limited in business 
hours. I get that sort of stuff on Sundays. How about this di- 
vorce question? You come here as Jess's representative, don't you? 
What do you say to my offer? 

Ward. I'll have to consult her first. 

Will. Well, consult her. There's a long distance phone in the 
other room. Simpson will show you. Call her up! I must know 
today. A million or a fight. It must be settled at once. 

Ward. All right. [Exeunt Ward and Simpson. Telephone bell 
rings. Will anszvers.] 

Will. Hello! That you, Bladworth? Yes. This is York. Mun- 
cie? Yes, I used to five at Muncie. Yes, I know about Muncie 
Interurban. Don't consider it safe. Why? Well, that's just my 
opinion. Yes, stock's up now; but— what do you know about it? 
[Listeyis some time.] [Simpson re-enters and clears up some of the 
clothes and things.] Uh ! Huh! Yes! I know my brother controls 
it. He wants to sell the bonds? Well, I want to stop him. Yes. It 
can be done. Hammer the stock down; then no one will want the 
bonds. Do it today. Smash the whole proposition at any cost. I'll 
stand for it. See me on Wall Street at eleven thirty. All right, 
goodbye. [Enter IVard.] Well, did you get her? 

Ward. Yes. 

Will. Well, what does she say? 

Ward. Oh, it was pitiful to hear her cry over the phone, nearly 
a thousand miles away, and not be able to comfort her ! But she's 
very positive. She says she refuses, for the sake of the boy. 

Will. Refuses! Well, what is she going to do? 

Ward. She says she hopes that in time you will make it up and 
live with her again. 

Will. [Bringing fist down in hand.] Never! I tell you, never! 
There's not the remotest chance that I will ever do any such thing 
and the sooner you make her understand that, the better. Ward. 

Ward But, William— 

Will. I tell you, I know my own mind. You cannot move me 
by argument. I wish never to see her again. I expect to see the 
boy, as before, several times a year, or rather, have him come to see 
me. But with Jess, I am absolutely through, forever. 



40 DROSS 

Ward. Well, all right. Arrange for a decent separation, without 
the stigma of divorce on your wife, self and child. 

Will. [More and more excited and positive.] No, I tell you, no! 
If it were the last word I should say, before being paralyzed, I 
should still say no ! 

Ward. You must be thinking of marrying again. Are you? 

Will. We'll not discuss my future plans, if you please. I may de- 
cide to marry again, and then, I may not. I am not inquiring what 
Jess proposes to do, after we are divorced. She might marry you. 
Ward. Eh? Might do worse than marry a lovely divorcee with 
money ? 

Ward. I v/ish to goodness she would ! Jess is the only woman I 
ever thought enough of to give up my bachelor comforts for, and 
the longer I live, the more I think of her. But I can see clearly 
enough that I've no chance, though she likes me well enough. 
You're the only man she really loves, Will. She's been giddy, I 
admit, but good God! What a life 3'ou've led her! 

Will. [Waving all the talk aside.] Listen here. Ward! I've got 
a lot of work to get through today. So let's come to an under- 
standing. I have made Jess a most liberal offer — better than I be- 
lieve the divorce courts have any record of. Oblige me by going 
straight back to Muncie and putting it very clearly before her. If 
she accepts, all right. Wire my lawyers and they will draw up all 
papers at once and communicate with me. If she refuses, well, it 
is war between us and I shall stop her allowance and take it into 
the courts. 

Ward. [Rising and taking hat.] So that's your ultimatum? 

Will. Yes. 

Ward. Well, all I can say is, that I'm through with you. My 
boyhood friend Bill has gone to the dogs, and you have taken his 
place, [scornfully] William ! 1 shall go back to Jess and tell her ex- 
actly what you say, but [very emphatically on his way to the door] 
if she decides to fight, don't for one moment suppose that you will 
have things your own way. Far from it. She has had you shad- 
owed for over a year, and if the record of your life during that time 
ever comes into court, you'll stand a mighty poor show for getting 
a divorce from her — the decision, you may depend on it, will be the 
other way, and your future marriage, if you're thinking of one, will 
be impossible. Goodbye. [Exit. 

Will. Well, thank heaven, he's gone. I was afraid he and Miss 
Stapletori would meet. What's the time, Simpson? 

Simp. Quarter to eleven, sir. 



DROSS 41 

Will. She ought to be here soon then. 

Simp. Yes, sir. ]Knock at bed room door.] There she is, sir. 
[He opens door on a crack, then opens wide, lets in Belle, who is 
dressed very strikingly, and exits himself. Belle rushes forward, 
throzi'S arms round Will.] 

Belle. How's my great, big, bad Billy boy? 

Will. Fine ! How's my little beauty ? 

Belle. Oh, fine! [Sits down on bed.] Aren't you dressed yet, 
Mr. Lazy? 

Will. No. Will be in a minute. By the way. Ward has just been 
in to see me, about Jess. 

Belle. [Eagerlv.] Does she agree? 

Will. No. 

Belle. [Very disappointed.] Oh! That's dreadful. What will she 
do? Fight? 

Will. She may, and if she does— 

Belle. She'll win, won't she? 

JVill. I'm afraid so. 

Belle. Why don't you offer her big alimony? 

Will. I did. 

Belle. Offer more. 

IVill. I offered her a million dollars, cash. 

Belle. Oh ! U she won't accept that, she won't accept anything. 

Will. No, I don't think she will. She has plenty of money any- 
way. Well, it's up to her now. I've done all I can. I've exhausted 
everything I can think of. 

Belle. May be if vou saw her — 

PVill. No. I saw her, you know, when she was here, a few weeks 
ago, and she wouldn't hear of anything. Said that for the sake of 
the boy she would not agree to it. 

Belle. What did Ward call for? 

Will. He came here to see if he could patch it up, but I made it 
clear to him that there was no hope for that. 

Belle. What did he say? 

Will He said he'd tell Jess my final word and then leave it to 
her. So I suppose we'll just have to wait. 

Belle. Yes. But it's awfully hard. This suspense is dreadful. 
Will. Oh ! Don't worry. We'll get up a yacht party and go away 
for a little while and have a grand old time with the crowd. 

Belle. Yes. but Will, if she fights— and— if you're never— able to 
raarrv me? 



42 DROSS 

Will. Well then, we'll lake another trip to Europe and enjoy 
ourselves like we did last time, won't we? 

Belle. That would be perfectly lovely, but — 

Will. But me no buts, you little nanny. Are you going to re- 
hearsal today? 

Belle. No. 

Will. Well, come on down town with me, and after I've at- 
tended to business, we'll have lunch and then go for a ride in my 
new auto. 

Belle. All right. I'll go on down and wait for you in the parlor. 
[Kisses him.] Hurry, now. Don't keep me waiting ! 

Will. I won't. [E.vit Belle. 

Enter Simpson. 

Simp. The auto's waiting, sir. 

Will. [Looks at zvatch.] Eleven o'clock. My coat and hat, 
quick! [Simpson helps him on with coat, hands hat, opens door. 
Exit Will. Simpson begins to tidy up clothes. Curtain on scene.] 



Scene II. Corner Broad and Wall Streets, New York. [Front 
drop.] Enter and walk past in succession, messenger boys, curb 
brokers, disputing about prices, etc. E.veunt. Enter Will and 
Bladworth k and r., meeting in center. 

Will. Ah! Bladworth. How are you making out? 

Bald. Fine ! Stock went down to nineteen. Nobody wanted the 
bonds. Your brother sold out all his stock and I bought it in, for 
you. 

Will. Good! Then he's ruined. 

Bald. He is? Your brother? 

Will. Yes. He's my brother, but has been my bitterest enemy for 
years. Now I've got him beaten at all points. 

Bald. But he got nineteen. So he isn't all to the bad. 

Will He had the stock hypothecated for twenty. So he's 
badly knocked out, I tell you. 

Bald. Oh ! Then he is a loser all right. 

Will. Yes. Now, I'll see that mother don't help him any more, 
and he'll begin to take his rightful position in the world, as a dry 
goods clerk, or something. 

Bald. But Mrs. York zvill help him. 

Will. She can't. She hasn't a cent of her own. 



DROSS 43 

Bald. She hasn't? I'm told she's got apartments at the Belle- 
view, that must be costing ten thousand a year. 

JVilL Yes, and / pay for them ! She is surrounded with every 
luxury, and can buy anything she wants, but the bills come in to 
me; and they are all paid by check \ She hasn't been able to give 
Jim a cent for over a year, and won't be, from now on. 

Bald. Well, all T can say is you're certainly a good hater, Mr, 
York. I wouldn't like to have you for an enemy. 

Will. Well, at any rate. I like to be on top. And now I'm there, 
and mean to stay ! 

Bald. Anything further for me to do, Mr. York? 

IVill. No. Not today. But I shall have something big for you 
to work on, pretty soon. 

Bald. All right. You'll find me always ready. I never leave 
business. I guess I'll go on to my office now. Good day. 

Will. Good day. [Exit Bladzvorth.] [Apostrophising Stock Ex- 
change Building.] Ah! There you stand, great Temple of Mam- 
mon, reared by priests and dupes of the Twentieth Century. There 
you stand, and overlook the scenes of your triumphs and orgies ! 
You are new, in dress of brick and stone, but your soul is old — old 
as the age of man. Gold! Gold! Gold! Your rapacious maw 
ever cries for more, regardless of your victims' sufferings. What 
heartaches, what unhappiness, what broken homes, what mur- 
ders, what suicides, what loss of hope in a hereafter, has the worship 
of your great god — Money — not caused the human race! Yes, 
there you stand, fair without, foul within, a monument reared by 
men's hands, to a religion that never dies — a religion that has 
more votaries, more priests, than any other religion in the world, 
whilst I, the high-priest of them all, sometimes wonder — why — 
why — why? [Bows head and zvalks slozvly out. 

Curtain on Scene. 



Scene III. A fezv months later. The corridor, Hotel Royal Poin- 
ciana, Palm Beach. A number of hotel guests seated and walking 
around, playing cards, shopping at the hotel booths, etc. Boys run- 
ning to and fro, zjuith telegrams. Telegraph booth at r. Men walk 
up to booth and send various telegrams, zvithout counting zuords. 
Lady reporter walks around, making notes and sending telegrams. 
Telegraph girl primps betiveen times and flirts zvith bell boys. 



44 DROSS 

Mrs. Oilby, Mrs. Stacker, Mrs. Rimyan and Miss Singleton, all 
dressed very richly, in evening dress, discovered seated at table in 
front. The zvomen talking volubly, all together, in loud, harsh voices, 
as curtain rises. 

Miss Sing. One can see that you're a newcomer here, Mrs. Oilby, 
and that you haven't been much in society. 

Mrs. Oil. Yes, Miss Singleton. You see. Colonel Oilby never 
did believe in me goin' much into society. And I didn't have much 
time, what with the housework, cooking, washing, and so forth. 

Mrs. Run. But now that the Colonel's struck oil, you're going 
to take some time to enjoy yourself, are you? 

Mrs Oil. Yes. He bought me a ticket, gave me a check for 
dresses and expenses, and so I came down here for a while. 

Mrs. Stock. Well, we'll show j-ou around and tell you all about 
everything, won't we, ladies? 

All. Yes! 

Mrs. Oil. Thanks. Now. Mrs. Stocker, please tell me who these 
two Mrs. Yorks are, that you were talking about. 

Mrs. Stock. One's the first and the other's the second wife of the 
millionaire William York — you've heard of him? 

Mj's. Oil. Oh ! Yes. I've heard of him. 

Miss Sing. And how he divorced his first wife, gave her a cool 
million and married Belle Stapleton, the actress, in a week? 

Mrs. Oil. No. I never heard. 

Mrs. Stock. Well, he did. And after a trip abroad, brought her 
down here with seventy-eight trunks full of Paris gowns. 

Mrs. Oil. Oh ! I'd love to see them. Do you think I will have 
the chance? 

Mrs. Run. Oh yes ! You'll see them all, if you stop long enough. 
Don't worry. She puts on three or four new ones every day. And 
I've seen her telegraph for several new ones from New York since 
she's been here. 

Mrs. Oil. She must be rather extravagant, Mrs. Runyan. 

Mrs. Run. Extravagant's no word for it! And her jewels. You 
ought to see them ! 

Mrs. Stock. Gorgeous ! 

Miss Run. It's a sin, the money she spends on clothes. 

Mrs. Oil. Well, you say she was an actress. I suppose there's 
some excuse for her. 

Miss Sing. Oh ! There's some excuse, but that's not it. 

Mrs. Oil. How do you mean? 

Miss Sing. Why, you see, w^hat she is really trying to do. is to 



DROSS 45 

eclipse Jess, the first wife, who came down soon after they arrived, 
and from the first attracted more attention than she did. 

Mrs. Oil. So? 

Mrs. Run. Yes. Every time that Belle wears a new dress, Jess 
wears a new one that beats it in beauty and taste. 

Mrs. Stock. Knocks the spots out of her, every time. 

Miss Sing. Oh ! It's tragic, I assure you. Here is Belle with a 
husband and her millions to back her, and Jess comes down here, 
with no one but a lady companion, and puts her to utter rout. 

Mrs. Run. Yes. Belle is simply crazy. If she don't manage to 
beat Jess in the end. she will do something rash, I'm sure. 

Mrs. Stock. Well, if what my maid says is true, she stands some 
show of coming out ahead tonight. 

All Why? 

Mrs. Stock. Why, her new gown she cabled to Paris for, has 
arrived and she's going to wear it tonight. I understand it cost 
one hundred thousand francs. 

Mrs. Oil. [Clasps hands.'] Oh, wonderful ! 

Miss Sing. Well, we'd better stay right here till they come, and 
we'll see the whole show. 

Mrs. Stock. Oh, yes ! 

Mrs. Run. Let's do. 

Mrs. Oil. I'd camp here all night to see them dresses. 

Miss Sing. I wonder if the Count will be on hand tonight? 

Mrs. Run. [Scornfull\.] Of course. 

Mrs. Oil. The Count? 

Mrs. Stock. Yes. Count "Havvy^* we call him. Can't remember 
his whole name. 

Mrs. Run. He's a Hungarian nobleman, an admirer of Mrs. 
York's. 

Mrs. Oil. The actress? 

Miss Sing. Yes, and not the only one, either. 

Mrs. Stock. No. They do talk about her most scandalously, for 
a woman in her position. 

Mrs. Run. I wonder Mr. York allows the Count around. 

Miss Sing. I think he's been getting rather tired about it lately. 
But, say, while we're waiting, ladies, what do you say to a game of 
bridge, before dinner? 

Mrs. Run. Good idea! 

Mrs. Oil I'm afraid I can't play. 

Miss Sing. What! Not play bridge? Let me tell you, Mrs. 
Oilby, your education has been badly neglected. 



46 DROSS 

Mrs. Oilby. I expect so. But I just never seemed to have time. 

Mrs. Stock. Well, you'll have plenty of time on your hands, down 
here now. 

Mrs. Oil. Yes. There's lots to see here, but don't 'pear to be 
nuthin' much to do. 

Miss Sing. That's why everybody in our set plays bridge. 

Mrs. Stock. Yes, you see, when you're tired of all this style put- 
tin on [zuaves hand towards lobby] and there don't seem to be noth- 
ing to do, you can always have a real good, exciting time, in a game 
of bridge, specially if the stakes is wuth playin' for ! 

Mrs. Run. That's true. But somehow, the stakes don't seem to 
matter so much, these day. I can't get so excited about the game as 
I used to, a few years ago, before Runyan made so much money in 
New York. 

Mrs. Oil The time he advertised his little liver pills? 

Mrs. Run. Yes. He used to tell me every night the amount of 
his sales of pills for the day. 

Mrs. Stock. Did he sell a lot? 

Mrs. Run. Sometimes more, sometimes less. Nobody could ever 
tell in advance. 

Miss Sing. It must have been just like gambling. 

Mrs. Run. It was. And after that, even bridge seems rather 
tame. 

Mrs. Oil. Well, I believe I'd like to learn, and see what it's like, 
anyway. 

Miss Sing. Oh, yes ! Let's have a game now ! I'll teach you ! 

All. All right! [Miss Singleton produces hand bag, opens and 
extracts pack of cards; she shuMes; they cut.] You must cut for 
partners and deal. [Mrs. Oil cuts.] Oh! You're my partner, sit 
over there. [They change places to face partners. Mrs. Stocker 
is dealer, Mrs. Oilby leader, Mrs. Stocker shuffles, Miss Singleton 
cuts and Mrs. Stocker deals.] Now, pick up your cards. They 
have to make the trump, or else they can play no trump. You 
see? Then, if you've got a good hand, you can double. 

Mrs. Oil. Double what? 

Mrs. Stock. Double the trump. 

Mrs. Oil The trump? 

Mrs. Run. No, the trick! 

Miss Sing. Oh, keep still, everybody, you're just getting her 
mixed up. You see, the dealer and his partner make a bridge. 

Mrs. Oil Ah ! I see ! That's why it's called bridge. 

All [Excitedly.] Yes! ^. 



DROSS 47 

Mrs. Oil. But how do you make a bridge? 

Miss Sing. Well, I'm just trying to tell you. You understand if 
you double the trump, I mean the trick, the dealer, or her partner, 
may redouble, and then you or I may double again, and so on. 

Mrs. Oil. What for? 

Mrs. Run. Why, it's just part of the game. Do listen and keep 
still. We'll never get started, this way. 

Miss Sing. No ! Now, in the play of the cards, the ace is high 
and the deuce low. 

Mrs. Oil. That's the way it is in poker. 

All. [Contemptuously.] Poker! 

Mrs. Stock. Then when we've doubled and redoubled, and so on, 
you lead ; and we go on playing, till the tricks are all won. 

Mrs. Oil. And whoever takes the most tricks, wins the pot. 

Miss Sing. Oh, no ! It goes by points. You see, you have two 
scores, by tricks and by honors. When hearts are trumps, tricks 
count eight, spades two, clubs four, diamonds six, and no trumps 
twelve ; and doubling or redoubling increases the count accordingly. 
When hearts are trumps, three honors count sixteen, four honors 
count thirty-two, and so on. A little slam, adds twenty points and 
a grand slam — {Grand slam heard outside as of table falling over. 
Ladies all scream and start up, overturning the table and cards. 
Enter bellboy, running, holding hand to ear and crying out.] 

Bellboy. Oh ! He done hit me ! He done hit me ! 

All. Who hit you? 

Bell. Oh! The Count, the Count! 

Mrs. Oil. Well, I reckon you needed it, or he wouldn't have done 
it. The Count is a perfect gentleman. Pick up those cards. IBeM- 
boy begins to pick up cards.] 

Enter Count Georg Aladar Havelka, in full uniform. He sa- 
lutes and bows deeply to the ladies. They courtsey in varying de- 
grees of ungracefulness. 

Count. Oh ! Good efening, beautiful ladies. 

All. Good evening. Count ! 

Miss ^tng. Won't you come and sit down? [Hi> strides forward. 
Bows again. Sees bellboy; makes a movement as if to hit him. 
Bellboy howls, holds hands to protect himself. Ladies scream.] 

Count. Your pardon, ladies. But that Tartar, Turk, Dog Brother, 
there! I play a game of chess with the Honorable William York; 
I beat him ! I take his Queen, I am going to checkmate, when, Gott 
im Himmel! Potz tausend ! Kreutz ! Donnerwetter ! Pfaff! He 
trip himself up on his big feet, fall against that table and slam ! 



48 DROSS 

bang! My game is spoilt! I hit him, the dog brother! [He aiuis 
another blozv.] 

Ladies. Oh! Don't, Count! [He bozi,'s.] 

Mrs. Stock. You say you were playing with Mr. York? Was 
Belle there? 

Count. His wife? Nein. I have not her, tonight, seen, except in 
the dining room. Is she not magnificent, this efening, not? 

Mrs. Run. Belle really is showily beautiful, with all her warpaint 
on. She and Mr. York make a very handsome couple. But here 
they come. [The Count leans eagerly fonvard.] 

Enter Will and Belle, she in evening gown, with diamonds. Will's 
hair has turned slightly gray. Everybody in corridor cranes their 
neck to see her. Telegraph operator much interested. Female re- 
porter follows, noting down points of dress. The Count hurries for- 
ward, bows, holds chair for her to sit dozvn. Will rather cold. The 
ladies turn up their eyes at each other. 

Count. Good efening, Mrs. York. Such magnificence as you 
shed upon us tonight, turns all our heads, is it not, York? 

Will. Some heads are easier turned than others, Count. It takes 
a good deal to turn mine, for instance. 

Belle. I'm afraid you're a terrible flatterer, Count ! 

Count. Flattery, my dear Mrs. York, is an art not practiced by 
the Hungarian gentleman, the true Magyar. He speaks what he 
thinks, on the impulse of the moment, and if his words appear at 
times rather warm and passionate, remember, that the heart of the 
Magyar is not, like the American, encased in ice, but burns like a 
fire in his bosom, with the real artist's admiration, for all that is 
beautiful and magnificent. 

Will. Especially for the ladies. 

Count. Especially for — the ladies [bows.] In the theaters, gar- 
dens, and palaces of Europe, I have seen many beautiful women, but 
the most beautiful, most bewitching, most enchanting, of all her 
sex, I have seen, not in Buda-Pesth, not in Paris, not in Brussels, 
not in Europe, or Asia, but in the United States of America. [Bows. 
Will makes movement of impatience. Looks at watch.] 

Will You'll excuse me, Isabelle. I have an appointment, I shall 
have to keep. 

Belle. At the club, I suppose. Well, don't gamble all night! 

Will. If I did, it wouldn't cost me as much as some other ex- 
travagant expenditures I have to meet. {Exit. 

Belle. The brute! I know what he means. He means my last 
dressmaker's bill. 



DROSS 49 

Count. [Discreetly sympathetic.'] The expenditures of a beau- 
tiful woman, for adornment, cannot be called extravagance. 

Belle. Why, I haven't spent five hundred thousand on clothes and 
jewels this year. What's that to one of the richest men in America? 
Oh, Count, those miserly millionaires ! How I despise their mean- 
ness ! 

Count. My dear Mrs. York, pardon my plain words, but what 
can you expect from a man, who thinks of nothing but money? It 
becomes to him his God ! His idol ! He can think and dream of 
nothing else. He hears not the angel voices of music, he sees not 
the beauties of nature, of art, of fair women. The paradise we live 
in, is nothing to him. but a gutter, in which to grovel for more 
gold. Ah, if we were only in Paris, and you were free ! What 
joys and pleasures might we not enjoy together ! 

Belle. [Pretending to stop her ears.] Count! Count! You 
should not think such things, much less say ^hem ! But hush 1 
[Rising.] Give me your arm. Here she comes. lAnxiously.'] 
How do I look? 

Count. [Enthusiastically.] Magnificent! [They promenade. Talk- 
ing and laughing heard zuithout.] 

Enter Jess, surrounded by coterie of ivomen and followed by crowd 
of men in evening dress. Jess in magnificent, rich and tasteful cos- 
tume, zvith handsome jezvels — a tout-ensemble that utterly eclipses 
Belle's costume. The tzvo parties promenade, some of the ladies 
exchanging bozvs zvith Belle and the count. Belle and Jess icily un- 
conscious of each other, yet evidently oblivious to all else. Telegraph 
operator much interested, mounts on stool to get better viezu. Fe- 
male reporter trots around, examining and making notes about gozvn. 
The Count is tremendously impressed and stares zvith all his eyes. 
Belle notices this and turns green with jealousy. Exit Jess and party. 
Exeunt Mrs. Runyan, Mrs. Stock er, Mrs. Oilby and Miss Singleton, 
Tehegraph operator puts up sign "Closed" and exit. Belle sinks 
into chair. 

Belle. Beaten again ! 

Count. Never mind ! Better luck next time. 

Belle. [Starts up.] Oh! You really think she dresses better 
than me, do you? 

Count. Well, ma mie ! To tell the truth — 

Belle. Oh, the cat! How I hate her; to come down here and 
flaunt herself and her child in my face and beat me, a show girl, at 
wearing clothes! But I'll show her! Come over here. [Seizes 
Count's wrist and drags him over to telegraph booth. Reaches in, 



50 DROSS 

gets blank and feverishly scribbles several telegrams, which she tosses 
over to Count to read.] 

Count [reading.'] Redfern, Paris. Ship first steamer, one each 
afternoon and evening costumes, to cost hundred fifty thousand 
francs, each; Isabelle York, Palm Beach. To Worth, Paris. Ship 
first steamer, evening toilette de luxe for ball, to cost not less than 
three hundred thousand francs ; Isabelle York, Palm Beach. To Le- 
monnaie, Paris. Send first steamer selected pearl necklace to cost 
one million francs ; Isabelle York, Palm Beach. [He shrugs shoul- 
ders; holds up his hands.] Ma chere Amie ! What will York say? 
[She snatches them from him, rings bell on table frantically. Boy 
rushes in. She gives him the telegrams. He runs out.] 

She sits, he stands, silent aivhile. Belle's mood changes. She 
smiles. 

Belle. Is Hungarian a very hard language, Count? 

Count. Not so hard as the English, ma chere. 

Belle. English is easy. 

Count. To you, yes. Ca ce comprends. Mais You see, 

my countryman is perhaps the best linguist in Europe. He knows 
Hungarian, the old language of the Magyars, the language of Arpad, 
the first great conqueror of Europe. He knows German. He knows 
French, the language of the courts, and he knows English, the world 
language. But of all these languages, I say to you, my dear Mrs. 
York, that your English the most difiicult is. 

Belle. [Rather fondly.] Teach me some Hungarian. 

Count. Also! Where shall I begin? 

Belle. What is your full name, in Hungarian? 

Count. Graf Georg Aladar Havelka, Knight of the Iron Crown, 
Captain of the Castle, Chief of the Body Guard, Keeper of the 
Cellars. 

Belle. Oh ! My ! I would never be able to learn all that ! Now, 
tell me what your friends call you. 

Count. Sometimes Georg, sometimes Aladar. 

Belle. Haven't you a shorter name? A — a — 

Count. A pet name? 

Belle. Yes, a pet name. 

Count. Jurko. 

Belle. How musical! [Lingeringly.] Jurko! 

Count. [Taking her hand lovingly.] Isabelle! 

Belle. [Gently.] Georg! 

Count. Ma belle! I love you. To me, you are the most beauti- 
ful, the most perfect, the most delicious woman in the world. 



DROSS 51 

Come ! Leave this cold millionaire, who loves you not. Come with 
me to Buda-Pesth. He will get a divorce. Then we will marry and 
I will give you rank and honor. You will queen it in my castles and 
be forever to me my star and adoration. 

Belle. [Dazsled.] Count! Count! Don't tempt me! It cannot 
be. It is too late. 

Count. Never too late to seek for happiness. Come, let us walk 
in the garden and I will tell you about Hungary. [She rises. He 
offers arm, ivhich she accepts and they exeunt.] 

Enter Gustave, in pyjamas, rubbing eyes and crying. 
Gus. Muddy! I want my Muddy! Muddy! 

Enter Will. 

Gus. Fahdy ! 

Will. [Lifts him up in his arms.] Why, old man, whatever are 
you doing here? 

Gus. Oh, Fahdy ! I had such a nofful dream ! 

Will. Did you? 

Gus. Yes. A bengle tagger comed to my window and made such 
a awful face at me, and I finked he was goin' to eat me up ! 

M^ill. And what did you do? 

Gus. Oh! I just woked up, fast as ever I tood, and runned down 
stairs to find my beautiful, lovely Muddy! 

Will. But where was nurse? 

Gus. Nursie was fast asleep. Oh! Fahdy! 

Will. What? 

Gus. Do you suppose the tagger gotter? 

Will. No, she'll be all right. Now, I'll take you up to bed and 
you must go to sleep again like a good little — 

Gus. [Suddenly, as if struck by a bright idea.] You be a ele- 
phunt, and carry me away fum him. 

Will. Not tonight. 

Gus. Oh, yes ! Please, Fahdy ! Cause the tagger may be goned 
tomorrow. You may be goned, too. You seem to be goned away 
most all 'e time. Other little boys' Fahdies stay wif em all 'e time. 
Why don't 3^ou never not let me and ]\Iahdy stay wif 00 too? 

Will. Can't be done, Gus, old man, but never mind, I'll be your 
elephant, for a little while and carry you off to bed. 

Gus. [Claps hands.] Oh! What fun! Come on! [Will puts 
him up on shoulder.] 



52 DROSS 

Gus. Get up! Elephant! [Will cavorts around and romps ivifh 
him.] 

Will. What's your room number, Gus? 

Gus. [Slowly.] One, two, two. 

Will. All right. Here we go ! [Exit with Gus on back. 

Enter Belle, slozvly and pensively, smiling. She goes and sits 
down in a chair. Enter Will,, zvith Belle's telegrams, zvhich he is 
reading. Looks up, sees Belle. 

Will. What's this, Belle? Are you losing your mind? Just spent 
a million and a half francs on clothes and jewelry — and here are 
orders for nearly two million more. Do you think I'm the Shah 
of Persia? 

Belle. You read these? 

Will. Yes, I took that liberty. The new night cable operator in 
town didn't know your name and sent the messages back for the 
clerk's O. K. I happened to be there and saw what they were about, 
which is lucky for me. 

Belle. You mean — 

Will. I mean they shan't go ! 

Belle. I say they shall ! 

Will. No ! The time has come to call a halt on this extravagance. 
I will not, I cannot stand for it. My resources are not boundless. 
You are spending more money on clothes than an empress. What 
for? You don't get as much for the money as some women with 
one-tenth your means. What's that you're wearing? That one 
hundred thousand franc Worth thing? 

Belle. [Snaps.] Yes. 

Will. Well, I've seen several gowns tonight that looked a damned 
sight better than that, and I'll swear didn't cost half what that did. 

Belle. [Between her teeth.] Yes! You've seen hers! Hers! 
Hers ! It's not the gown ! You still admire the woman ! You're 
getting tired of me. I've been your plaything for a while, and 
you're hankering after your old toy. 

Will. Nonsense ! 

Belle. It's not nonsense. I acknowledge I've tried to outshine her. 
But in spite of your money, I can't. 

Will She always did have devilish good taste in clothes. 

Belle. [Starts up.] Don't praise her to me ! I hate her, she's 
shameless. A divorcee, to come and brazenly try to get you back. 
And you! You refuse to stand by me! You refuse to humiliate 
her ! You won't spend a few paltry thousands to help me out-shine 



DROSS 53 

her? I won't stand it! I will get even! I'll humble your pride, if 
not hers! [Siveeps out. 

Will. [Sits dozvn near chess table; lights cigar.] Well, if women 
aren't the very devil ! Hm ! Well ! She'll get over it. They all 
do. But it keeps a fellow's nerves on a hair trigger — what with 
wine, women, and Wall Street, and even down here, I don't seem 
to get the rest the doctor sent me for. I wonder why Bladworth 
has not wired me his daily report. He's always so punctual. We've 
had a hard tussle with that Harriman bunch. But I guess we've 
got things going our way. Hello ! I believe I'll try that Hungarian 
gambit the Count sprung on me this evening. [Edges up to table 
and begins to move pieces. Pojiders.] Here's where he took my 
queen ! Darned if I can see how to prevent him. 

Enter boy ivith telegram. He hands to Will, then exit. 

Will. Ah! Bladworth's report. [Tears open.] What's this, from 
Miller, Bladworth's clerk? [Reads.] ''Bottom dropped out of mar- 
ket. Bladzvorth has committed suicide. Your losses over ten million 
on steel ahne." By God ! I'm ruined ! [Holds head in hand for 
a minute or two, as though head hurt, then resumes cigar, seems 
to have diiUculty in finding mouth.] 

Enter boy zvith note, hands to Will, then exit. 

Will. What's this? From Belle? [Opens letter.] I can't see. 
[Rubs hand over eyes and stares, as though blinded, then reads.] 
When you get this, I shaU be gone to Hungary, zvith the Count. Do 
not attempt to follozv, as zve go by a route that you zuould not dis- 
cover, and in Europe, if you interfere, he zvilh kill you. So good- 
bye." "So goodbye!" H'm ! He did get my Queen. [Wearily, 
passing hand over head.] So! Goodbye! [Picks up telegram.] 
Here is ruin! [Holds up letter.] Here is disgrace! How many 
more moves, I wonder, before the game is over? [Sits still a zvhilc; 
tries to get up but can't; rings bell.] 

Enter Bellboy. 
Will. Send my valet. 
Bellboy. Yes, sir. [Exit. 

Enter Simpson. 
Simp. Yes, sir. 

Will. Help me up, Simpson. [Simpson, greatly surprised, gives 
arm.] I'm growing old, or something. My head and legs seem 
numb. [They zvalk slozvly out.] 

END OF ACT III. 



54 DROSS 



ACT IV. 



Scene: Veranda of Will's country house on Long Island. Enter 
Will, in invalid chair, being pushed by Simpson. Will carries pad of 
paper and pencil. Left hand paralyzed, with fingers drawn up, 
clutching pad of paper. Right hand holds pencil feebly. Left side 
of face all drawn up, hair zvhite — a lureck of a man. 

Simp. A lovely morning, Mr. York, sir. [He cranes head over 
back of chair to see if Will answers, on the paper. Speaks a little 
louder.] A lovely morning, I say, sir. I 'opes as 'ow this 'ere 
weather keeps hup, then you'll soon be getting better, sir. [He 
cranes neck again. Will feebly zvritcs. Simpson reads slowly.] "No 
u-use 'o-p-ing." Oh! Beg your parding, sir! There's hevery use, 
a 'oping. There's lots of people that recovers from paralysis. The 
doctor said so. [He cranes neck and reads.] "Not when they're 
wrecks like you?" Wy ! You're not a wreck, sir! You're 'ale and 
'earty, yet, sir ! Honly thirty-one ! Quite a young man yet, sir ! 
[Will writes. Simpson reads.] "Young in years, but old in expe- 
rience. I've overdrawn my account in the banks of health, money 
friendship, and all I have left is you, my faithful valet, and friend." 
Oh ! Mr. York, sir ! Don't talk that way. You have lots of friends 
yet, sir. [Will writes. Simpson reads'] "And not one to see me 
here in a month!" Give 'em time, sir! I suppose they don't know 
where you are! Give 'em time, I say! [Will ivrites. Simpson reads.] 
Any news from abroad ? Wy ! Yes, sir. Since you want to know. 
The lawyers telephoned up a little while ago to say that Mrs. York 
had been granted a divorce from you and had married the Count. 
[Will writes. Simpson reads.] You're glad of it, sir. Well, Hi'm 
not, sir ! I 'ope 'e beats 'er ! But, see, Mr. York, sir ! There's a 
lady and a gentleman a-coming up the drive in a carriage this 
minute! [Will looks eagerly out.] Now, who can they be, why it's, 

it's 

Enther Jess and Ward. 

Jess. [Running forivard zmth outstretched arms.] Will! Poor 
Will! 

Ward. William, old man, how are you? 

[Shakes hands. Will twites. Simpson reads. 



DROSS 55 

Siiup. 'E says, not William, just Bill! 

Ward. All right, old pal, anything you say, Bill ! But what's 
this, Simpson? Can't he speak? 

Simp. Can't say a word, sir. 'As to write hall 'is horders, and 
heverything ! It don't seem right, sir, to see 'im cuss me out on 
paper, 'im as used to talk so strong and free sir. 

[Simpson zvipes eyes with back of hand. 

Jess. Poor, poor Will ! We came to take you home. 

[Will zvrites. Ward reads. 

Ward. He says he has no home. 

Jess. Home is with me, Will ! I heard at the Astor this morn- 
ing about that horrid woman having got a divorce, and came right 
up to see you. Will, I have alv/ays been your true, wedded wife. 
My place is with you, now, more than ever, and if you will, you may 
come with me to our home in Muncie, and I will take care of j'ou 
as only a wife can do. 

Word. Yes, Will, Jess wants you to marry her again; she has 
never ceased to love you and if you accept, you may yet live many 
happy years, with her and the boy. [Will ivrites. Ward reads.] 
Yon refuse to saddle yourself on her? 

Jess. Will, dear ! I shall not be happy, unless you do. You will 
be no burden. Far from it. The sorrow you have caused me, I 
freely forgive. I will never marry again, if I do not marry you. 
[Smiling.] Do not make me beg you, as you once begged me. 
Think of the boy. Will, and then say yes. 

[Will writes. Ward reads. 

Ward. He accepts ! Good. 

Jess. That's right! [She kisses him, fixes his pillow, etc.] And 
now, we will make all arrangements at once and start home this 
very afternoon. What will there be to do, Simpson? 

Simp. Well, ma'am, I'll go down to the stable and put the horse 
into his carriage. We have an arrangement that lets us roll his 
chair up and fasten it to the seat, so I can drive him around. Very 
convenient, ma'am, I hinvented it myself. 

Jess. You're a jewel, Simpson. You shall come, if you wish, 
and help us take care of him. 

Simp. Just what I've been a-wanting to ask you, ma'am. Thank 
you kindly, ma'am. Oh, by the way, ma'am, 'e bought to ave a bit 
of broth before starting hout. The doctor said to keep him well 
nourished, and I halways fix him a cup of chicken broth, hevery day, 
at about this time. 

Jess. Are you cook, too, Simpson? 



$6 DROSS 

Simp. Yes, ma'am. 

Jess. Well, I'll cook for him this lime, while you get the Jiorse. 
Where's the stove? 

Simp. It's in the next room, ma'am. And the can of soup is on 
the shelf. Can you open a can, ma'am? 

Jess. Lordy, yes. Done it a thousand times in my younger days 
before I was rich— eh, Will? [Will nods head. 

Simp. [Excitedly.] Well, I declare! He hasn't done that since 
he had the stroke. You see, ma'am, you've done him good already. 
I believe he'll get well, now, after all! Won't you, Mr. York, sir? 
[WjU nods two or three times.] There! You see? Well, I'll go 
on down and get that 'oss. [Exit, urhistling. 

Jess. And I'll go and fix that broth, Willie boy ! Mr. Ward, you 
look after him, won't you ? [Exit. 

Ward. Yes. We'll amuse each other, eh. Bill, old pal? [Will 
zvrites. Ward reads.] Been fishing lately? Well, I guess. Do you 
know, I went fishing just last week, with Gustave, in the little old 
pool where you and I used to go when we were kids. Gus caught 
his first bass, and say! If he wasn't a proud kid! He calls me 
Uncle Teddy. [IVill zvrites. Ward reads.] No man on earth you 
would rather have as an uncle for your boy? Thanks, old man, 
thanks ! And if ever the day should come when he needs an uncle's 
or a father's care, you can rely on me! [Will writes. Ward reads.] 
You made me his guardian in your will, just after your second 
marriage? Well, Will, I'm glad of that. It shows there was no real 
hard feeling between us. Give me your hand, old chum. Say ! But 
that boy! He's a great one. You ought to read the letter he wrote 
me yesterday to the Waldorf, where I've been stopping. If it isn't 
the brightest letter a kid of that age ever wrote his uncle! [Will 
writes. Ward reads.] Where is it? Let me see [feels in pockets], 
I guess I must have left it in my overcoat pocket, in the carriage. 
I'll show it to you on the train. [Will zvrites. Ward reads.] Get 
it now? All right. I told the man to drive down to the front gate. 
I'll run down and get it. Back in a couple of minutes ! [Exit. 

Enter Jess, apron on, sleeves tucked up, hair mussed, smudge on 
nose, busy look. 

Jess. Where are those matches? Ah! There they are! [Takes 
half a dozen from the mantel piece, kisses Will as she passes him 
and exit. Will, left alone, suddenly rouses up. Laughs, thickly and 
indistinctly, cries, makes supreme effort to rise, hut fails.] 



DROSS 57 

Enter Ward, he stands transfixed at sight of Will's face. 

Ward. My God ! What is the matter? [Will makes such nervous 
efforts to zvrite that his letters are absohtely illegible. Ward en- 
deavors to decipher them, but shakes his head. At last he reads one 
word.] "Jess!" What? [JVill feebly moves head and points to door. 
Ward calls.] Jess ! 

Enter Jess. 

Jess. What's the matter? {Starts and runs forward at sight of 
Mm.] Oh! He's ill! 

[Will makes attempt to speak. Ward puts ear to his mouth. 

Ward. He says he's dving 

Jess. Oh! Poor Will! 'Oh! No! No! Not now. 

Will strains and makes strange movements and sounds. Finally 
he seems, by sheer force of immense will power, to overcome the 
paralytic torpor, rises to his full height, raises right arm above head 
and enunciating, slowly, thickly and with difficulty. 

Will. Ah ! God ! It's over. All is now lost, indeed ! What a 
mis-spent life was mine! I bartered my soul for gold, but gold 
gave me no real happiness and left me naught but dross ! 

[Dies. Ward and Jess bend over him and mourn.] 

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